


Heart of Darkness

by Silver_Birch



Series: Defiling/Reviving [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Although it's still a weird story, Blizzards, Blowjobs, Bondage, But standalone story too, But the Old Ones never sleep, Casting the runes, Christmas, Divine Justice, Durincest, Eventual Smut, F/M, Festive jollity, Flying reindeer, Goodwill to all Living Creatures, Human Sacrifice, Implied Violence, M/M, Mulled wine, Multi, Nightmares, Paganism, Public Execution, Pyromania, Revenge, Ritual Killing, Sancta Claws, Sequel to earlier story in series, Solstice traditions, Spanking, Strong Language, Superstition, Threesome - F/M/M, Tone is different and less twisted, Traditional craft markets, Winged Horses, Witchcraft, abominable snowmen, brotherly incest, but no actual violence, festive hangovers, gingerbread cottages, graphic smut, happy endings, holiday feasts, mince pies, seasonal overindulgence, snowballs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-09-20 06:58:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17017932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Birch/pseuds/Silver_Birch
Summary: It is Solstice-tide in Middle Earth. And like here, the Midwinter Solstice marks a time for feasting, fun and festive merrymaking with friends and family, of resting inside by a warm fire, and watching while the snows fall cold outside and the darkness prevails.But on this year’s dark tide, there is more than just winter stalking the land. An old nemesis of Fili and Kili has been quietly strengthening her hand, biding time in the shadows – waiting for the moment of maximum strength to strike at the heart of Erebor and bring a reign of terror in her wake.And for the line of Durin, the longest night of the year might yet be the turning point for their own good fortune. For if their enemy prevails, it won’t just be chestnuts roasting on an open fire...





	1. Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This whole story serves as a sequel (of sorts) to 'The Defiling', which is a really dark and twisted tale and not everyone's cup of tea. It's not actually neccessary to read that in order to read this though, as they're very compartmentalised stories with quite different tones. There are not really any troubling themes to this story - just some strong language, graphic (consensual) smut, and allusions to violence (but no actual violence happens). 
> 
> No characters were harmed in the writing of this story either - and this time they all get what they deserve!

**1.1: Erebor – present day**

“A long, long time ago, on a dark and moonlit night, when the snows lay glittering with frost like diamond, and the air hung sharp as a blade in the starry winter skies – on the stroke of midnight on that first silent night of Advent there awoke a particularly wicked creature who’d lain hidden all year long, sleeping in a hole deep in the ground. Old Nick was his name, and he was – ”

“Did he live in a hole in the ground like you did, Uncle Bilbo?”

The hobbit looked up sharply from the old storybook, startled by the comparison.

“Er... no. Not like my hobbit hole, my dear. More like – ”

“Did he live in a hole in the ground like the Mines of Moria?”

The little boy was looking up at him with those wide grey eyes, and for a second he looked so much like a younger version of the dwarf-king that the hobbit lost his train of thought.

“Er...”

He turned towards his lover in appeal, and Thorin tried to school his face into a stern look, as if the children would be taken in by his bluster.

“Old Nick didn’t live in a hobbit hole, or in a nice airy dwarf mine, for he wasn’t a living creature like any of us. Instead, he was – ”

But the dwarf lord stopped suddenly, and blinked at the hobbit.

“You don’t think they’ll get angry with us for telling them this one, will they? I don’t want to keep the children up all night – or give them nightmares, not on Solstice-Eve Eve and all?”

But the comment was evidently understood by the little pairs of ears all around them.

“No, tell us the story!”

“We won’t mind.”

“Tell us the scary story, Uncle Bilbo – !”

The hobbit shrugged and turned back to the tattered storybook.

“I think you’ve heard your answer there, my love. These kids aren’t scared of Old Nick, even if you are. Even if he does come down the chimney and put a spell on you in the middle of the night.”

He winked at the red-haired girl crouching on the floor at his feet.

“Because maybe, if he does, and you’ve been good, Thorin – maybe he’ll turn you a few shades thinner, and your clothes will fit better.”

The children giggled as the dwarf king shook his head.

“And maybe he’ll turn _you_ a few shades _colder_ when you find yourself sleeping on the floor on Solstice morning. But alright – fine. Tell them the story. And on your head be it if they get night terrors when the candles burn out.”

The hobbit returned to the storybook, wondering where he’d got to.

And as he looked at the pages, he remembered another scary story that he’d heard, not all that long ago – one that was far less fitting for the children than this tall tale.

One that was all the more scary for the fact it had been real, and real people he loved had been caught up in it.

“A long, long time ago, on a dark and moonlit night...”

He heard the slight quaver in his voice as he began, and tried to banish the memories of the past from his mind, and focus on lesser terrors such as the ghastly Old Nick of folklore...

 

_Some years previously, on another Solstice-Eve Eve..._

**1.2: Sulga’s keep – Solstice-Eve Eve afternoon**

The cold winds blew down from the Dol Guldur mountains, and from her balcony overlooking the filled-in swamps, the orc queen eyed the white winter coat that the land now wore with envy.

Such purity in white.

Such dazzling, glowing radiance.

All around her, the landscape shone with the absence of colour, now the dead hand of winter was upon the earth and snows had fallen steadily this past week.

It made her giddy.

It made her excited.

For what was today, if not Solstice-Eve Eve – the penultimate day of Advent on the winter calendar, and the day before the glorious Full Dark would begin to envelop the earth and give her the means to destroy all her enemies in one fell swoop.

She laughed out loud, feeling a few flakes of snow fall lazily onto her lips from the bright white sky above, and looking down she noticed a rider on horseback, making straight for her keep through the shallower drifts.

“Legolas, yasss! He’s come to me like he promised.”

And struck for a second by an alien feeling of happiness, the orc queen did a little fist-pumping dance around her balcony in a circle, safe in the knowledge that her servants and retainers waited outside her chamber door and would not see.

And then smearing on a slick of scarlet lipstain in front of her dresser mirror (made from grade-A hog fat and concentrated virgin’s blood, so she’d been promised), she paused to check her long black hair had been tousled to perfection.

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the _fellest_ of them all?”

She giggled as she imagined the shiny silver mirror’s admiring response.

“Thank you so much, darling. I try my best.”

She blew herself a kiss in the mirror, and giggling again, pulled on her own winter coat made out of dead white rabbits, and strode down the stairs to greet her much-anticipated holiday guest.

Her grey-skinned orcish retainers were already leading in the strutting elf prince, clad in a festive costume of red and white – the kind of thing that the vulgar Saltmarsh peasantry wore to go capering around in their banal seasonal tomfoolery.

What was it supposed to be again – she rolled her eyes inwardly – the cloak and hat of the demonic entity Old Nick, servant of the Heart of Darkness?

Yes, that’s right.

How very fitting.

And how very astute of the elf prince to blend in with such tawdry provincial traditions.

She supposed she should just be grateful that he’d skipped on the reindeer antlers.

She stopped for a second to strike what she believed was a sexy pose in the reception hallway, and twisted her enlardended ruby lips into a crooked pout, watching as the young elf prince caught sight of her and waved.

He strode across the foyer, leaving a trail of dirty wet footprints, and wrapped his big mittened paws around her waist, air kissing the sides of her face as if he was meeting another elf.

“Greetings, Sulga. My horse is waiting outside, with all my Solstice gifts for you. Perhaps if someone could – ”

He trailed off suddenly, his pale blue eyes blinking at her stony faced stare.

“ _Prince_ Legolas, such a pleasure to greet you and welcome you to my family seat. I trust the journey has been long and hard?”

The elf prince tossed his head back, sending loose droplets of melting snow all over Sulga’s dead rabbits.

“Why yes, of course. The weather has turned – ”

“Hard enough for you to forget your manners, I see.”

The elf stared at her for a second, his mouth hanging open mid-sentence.

And then he smiled, and shook his head slightly.

“Forgive me, my lady. I mean – _my queen_.”

He sank to his knees in a low bow, and Sulga’s crooked pout deepened.

She let him sit for a moment too long, knowing he must be uncomfortable, before tapping him on the shoulder in release.

“My prince, it is good of you to come. Now, let’s dispense with these formalities and have a drink. You must be thirsty after your journey.”

She clapped her hands together, and her retainers set to work.

The white-haired elf flared his nostrils in distaste as one of the smaller orcs pawed at his cloak, spinning the prince around and pulling the soggy garment from his arms.

And from the side door, Sulga’s _maître d’_ appeared with a silver tray of graceful glass flutes, filled to the brim with a fizzing amber liquid, and tastefully decorated with a sprig of mistletoe.

She waited for the prince to be stripped of his hat and cloak, relieved to see he was wearing his ordinary green silks underneath – and held out her glass for him to clink.

“To a very merry Solstice for us both,” she grinned, taking a sip of the honeyed wine.

“Happy Solstice, my queen. I have come prepared, as you instructed. Three crates of Mirkwood Cream, a dozen boxes of Wizard’s Weed, and some powdered amanita – all in the pannier, strapped to my steed.”

He fixed her with a smug smile.

“I even packed some reindeer antlers, for when we visit the town. The kids all love them.”

He winked at her, and Sulga felt her fingers tighten on the stem of her glass.

But her grin held firm. And satisfied to have earned his approval, the elf prince took a sip as if toasting his own accomplishments.

“Mmm, this is a good vintage, Sulga. A Rivendell? _Chateau-neuf de Gilivroi_ , 2800?

The orc queen pursed her lips and swallowed.

“I see you know your wines, Legolas. And so do I. Don’t let that upsetting stench of rotten cabbage that comes from the village delude you into thinking we orcs are not sophisticated.”

The pale eyed prince threw her a curious look, and smiled blandly.

“I can’t say I have ever noticed, Sulga, but of course you are right. And if I may say, _sophistication_ isn’t all it’s cracked up to be these days. My father prides himself on his sophistication. His Solstice soirées are renowned among my people as being the most _sophisticated_ night on the elvish social scene. Many young elflings dream of an invitation to the Great Hall of Mirkwood for these exclusive nights – to soak up the woodland culture, meet King Thranduil himself, and mingle with eligible bachelors such as me.”

He sniffed.

“But if I have to sit through one more evening of canapés, classical song, and High Elvish poetry – then I swear I shall go stark raving mad.”

Sulga grinned at him, taking in his self-pitying grimace, and took another sip of her wine.

“Well, if that’s true then you may as well get totally bollocksed on star dust and space shrooms here with me.”

The elf prince nodded sagely.

“That’s the plan, Sulga. I told my father I was coming here as a peace envoy, and to do some of that charity work you mentioned for the Slumlands. I mean, the Swamplands.”

“The Marshlands.”

She smiled primly, taking another sip of champagne and beckoning the elf prince with her finger as she turned to leave.

“Marshlands, yes. I’m sorry.”

Sulga led him through the corridors of her castle, swinging her hips seductively as she walked, hoping he was getting a good eyeful of her curves through the rabbit-skin robe.

She wasn’t wearing any knickers underneath.

“That’s alright, Legolas. I’m sure very few have heard of my little kingdom before. My dear dead uncle Azog’s poor management of the Marshlands’ resources has underpowered our little economy for far too long. But I have a solution to all that, and soon our illustrious region will be a powerhouse right on the Mordor border. A wealthy link between the orcish nation and all others who inhabit this wide and woe-begotten continent.”

She heard him guzzling at the wine now her back was turned, and wondered idly whether she should get him good and drunk sooner – or later. She’d had her dungeon all set with toys, tinsel, and cinnamon scented candles for days now, and surely he’d be more comfortable out of those damp clothes and oiled up on one of her A-frames?

It was maddening this – their cool formality every time he came here.

As if the last time they’d fucked was something he’d deliberately forgotten.

“That’s an ambitious plan, my lady. How do you hope to achieve it all?”

She smiled to herself, suddenly pleased by his scepticism.

It would make her victory all the more impressive to him later.

“Oh, you know. I have a good stiff broom to take to some of the cobwebs in Saltmarsh. And perhaps to some of the cobwebs _elsewhere_ too. But you don’t need to worry about any of that. All will be revealed tomorrow, when we visit the village for the Solstice Eve celebrations.”

They came to the end of the corridor, and Sulga held the heavy door open for the elf prince as they stepped into the chilly inner quadrangle, where the castle stables were located.

The air was growing colder already, and nightfall would be upon the world soon. She looked to the skies and saw the snow had stopped falling – but her nose told her there would be more to come once darkness fell.

Behind her, she heard the elf prince cough.

“How are we going to get to Saltmarsh in these snows, Sulga? Doesn’t the road go over a causeway? It’ll be a nightmare to cross in these drifts!”

She nodded.

“Yes, it will be.”

She led him to the stables, where his horse was already being tended to – and the big, heavy panniers full of festive party treats were being taken inside by her scuttling servants.

Legolas lingered for a moment to pat his horse as they went past – a big chestnut stallion that seemed ill at ease in the warm, dry stables.

“Easy, Big Red. What’s wrong?”

Sulga giggled, treading onwards to the back.

“Your horse is fine, Legolas. It’s probably the company in here that’s setting him on edge – but really, there’s no need to worry.”

The elf caught up with her, perplexed.

“What do you mean, _company –_?”

Sulga stopped and nodded to the last stall at the end of the stable.

“Say hello to my new ride, Legolas. I’ve only had her a month – she’s just a young filly – still growing, would you ever believe?”

The elf prince took a look inside the pen, and nearly lost his balance as a huge black muzzle appeared from within and tried to bite him.

And all at once, there was sudden noisy uproar as the creature in the stall seemed to fight _heavily_ against the gateposts in a fit of rage at this unwanted interaction, and the elf staggered backwards in panic.

“Gods above, Sulga – what _is_ that?”

Sulga nodded, pleased, and reached her hand in to stroke the filly’s black mane.

Legolas stared at her aghast as she petted the massive snout, earning herself a whinny of approval from the snorting beast.

“I caught her just over a month ago – she was sheltering under the trees by the edge of the swamp, hungry and exhausted – poor baby.”

The elf nodded, his eyes still wide.

“Where... where did it come from?”

Sulga shrugged.

“From Saltmarsh. She broke free from her stables the day she was born – bit the hand right off the stable boy, so they say. And then ran free for days around the marshes, fending for herself as best she could.”

She fixed the elf with a half-smile and winked.

“They say there was a spate of disappearances while she roamed free. Missing shepherds, travellers not coming home, that sort of thing. And all that was ever found of them was their blood-stained rags, chewed up in a pile with the snow stained red all around.”

She laughed, and the elf shook his head in disbelief.

“But Sulga... why does it have _wings_?”

She turned to regard the filly’s leathery black batwings – sprouting out from the beast’s shoulders like a young dragon’s.

“The villagers say that last year, on the High Winter’s Day storm, one of their fighting mares broke loose and was ravished by a flesh-eating bat.”

She shook her head.

“It’s obvious nonsense, but there you go. The villagers all believe it – but they’re a silly superstitious bunch in Saltmarsh. They’ll believe anything. There’s all kinds of mutants round the marshlands, that’s what my uncle used to say. The swamp vapours here are unhealthy – they can do things to unformed younglings before birth.”

The elf was staring at the freakish creature.

“Can it... _fly?”_

The orc queen threw her head back and laughed.

“Why, of course she can fly! How else do you think we’ll be getting to Saltmarsh in these snows? The whole village is buried in for the winter. No one can get in, and no one can get out until the thaws of Spring now. No one except for us.”

The elf prince frowned, and stared at the orc queen.

“You’re sure it’s safe? I mean... it looks like a biter to me, Sulga. In Mirkwood we send those ones to the _kitchens_.”

At his words, the filly shrieked and pawed once more at the stable door, hot steam rising from the beast’s nostrils and its black eyes trained right on the silver-haired prince.

Sulga saw the elf was nervous, and tried to hide her amusement.

“Perfectly safe, Legolas. Nightmare is happy as long as I’m on board. Just... don’t try mounting her yourself. She’ll take it as an act of aggression. And she’ll fight you right back.”

The elf shook his head quickly and muttered something under his breath.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He shivered and drained the rest of his champagne, trying to take his eyes away from the fell creature in the stall.

“Any chance of a top up, Sulga? I’m still thirsty.”

She smiled sympathetically, and slid over to take his arm.

“Of course, Legolas. Forgive my manners. Let’s get back inside and get you warmed up. I have just the thing to get the blood flowing after a long day sitting in the saddle! But first, we’ll have some more wine to drink and we can catch up on each other’s news...”

She caught a guard by the arm as the pair of them strode across the courtyard, and motioned to the skies.

“It’s getting dark, my friend. See to it that the ale and blood-pudding are left out by the front gate for the Old Ones, lest they come past again tonight.”

The guard flinched at her words, and nodded.

And as the orc queen steered the elf prince back inside the castle, the sun dove blindly below the horizon and the shadows began to darken all around the bluish coloured snows.

And when the festive-scented candles were lit in Sulga’s tinselled dungeon, and the elf prince began to howl as her paddle made his backside burn, the silent-falling snows muffled the sound from any living creature that might have been dumb enough to tread around her keep on Solstice-Eve Eve while the Old Ones crept abroad.

 

________________________________________

**1.3: Erebor – evening time, Solstice-Eve Eve**

 

Beside the roaring fire in the meeting room of Erebor, the dwarf king sipped in appreciation at the pungent golden liquid in his glass.

“It’s very good, Bard. You can certainly taste the peat in this one. Thank you for such a thoughtful gift. But tell me, how in Mahal’s name did you manage to acquire a bottle of old Erebor whisky in this day and age?”

The former bargeman shrugged, inspecting his own glass through the flickering firelight.

“My wife loved her whiskies, Thorin. She always said dwarves knew how to make a proper drink.”

He settled back into the leather chair and smiled at his friend.

“And she said you Erebor dwarves made the best. She used to keep a special peated bottle at the back of the cupboard, saving it for a rainy day.”

The thin faced man shrugged.

“This one, she never opened. And _after_ – I never opened it either. And so, it seemed like a fitting gift to give to you now – on your third Solstice, settled back in your old home.”

The firelight flickered and caught on the man’s sharp cheekbones, casting shadows in their hollows and making his blue eyes glint with flame.

“To my people, Thorin, three is a very auspicious number. It is the number of fortune. And the number of the gods.”

The dwarf king nodded.

“Thank you for sharing your wife’s gift with me, Bard. I’m very touched. And to think, this must be one of the last bottles of our fine old whisky tradition left in existence.”

The dwarf lord sipped thoughtfully on the spirit before continuing.

“Although my good friend Bofur has been firing up the old still again – and he knows all about his whiskies. He says he can get a batch together in the coming months, and that it’ll be good as old times – once he gets the balance right. But even if his plans come good, I’m afraid it’ll be _years_ before we get to taste any of it.”

The blue eyed man shrugged.

“Sometimes the best things are worth waiting for, Thorin. It’ll take time to get Erebor back on her feet.”

He eyed the dwarf lord cautiously.

“Especially with so few of you here. I’m surprised that more of your kind haven’t travelled here from the other dwarf territories – you’ve had what, twenty dwarves? Thirty? And not a single dwarrow amongst them.”

The dwarf lord sniffed at his glass, staring into the fire.

“They will come once we are ready for them, Bard. We’ve only been here three years. Time runs differently for my people.”

The man nodded, and smiled at his friend coyly.

“Of course it does, Thorin. But your people still need company. _Female_ company. How are you going to ever get any heirs without dwarrows?”

The dwarf lord stiffened.

“I have two heirs, Bard, as you well know.”

The man nodded slyly.

“I know you do. And one of them seems to have become ever so fond of my eldest daughter.”

The dwarf lord stared at the man, his grey eyes narrowing slightly, before he tossed his head back to roar with laughter.

“Yes Bard, I _had_ noticed. I can’t believe there is a soul in either of our kingdoms who _hasn’t_.”

The former bargeman grinned into his whisky, and nodded in agreement.

“You know, I wondered if we should perhaps swap those brothers round for the Solstice Eve festivities tomorrow. It would be priceless to see the look on my daughter’s face when she realises she has to kiss Kili.”

He took a sip from his glass, still grinning at the thought.

“A perfect Sancta Claws prank, although I suspect it’s rather a cruel one.”

Thorin shook his head, not understanding.

“What festivities are these, Bard? I wasn’t aware my nephews were involved in your people’s religious affairs. Is this a new development?”

The king of Laketown shrugged.

“As a general rule, Thorin – they aren’t. We know you dwarves hold to your own gods, and we don’t expect you to participate in our traditions.”

He sipped again on the whisky.

“But this year, our High Priestess is pregnant by one of her new husbands, and so my maiden daughter has been charged as acting the part of Lady Moonshine in her stead. And so naturally, my son can no longer take his prescribed part in the ceremony – for if he did, he’d have to kiss his sister. So your nephew offered to step in.”

Thorin frowned.

“What’s Lady Moonshine?”

The former bargeman smiled.

“That’s what we call her round here – the goddess of the moon. But perhaps you’re more familiar with her other name, Our Lady of the Snows. And I hear there are still some left who call her by her older, more ancient name... the Heart of Darkness.”

The dwarf king shrugged nonchalantly.

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard any of these before, Bard. But as you say, we dwarves have our own gods. I hope my nephews can be of some assistance to you – what do you need of them for tomorrow?”

The man smiled.

“It’s only one of them we need, Thorin. We need someone to play the part of the Sun Prince, who is the lover of Lady Moonshine, and during the ritual is ceremonially released from his cage by the goddess, from the watery underworld in which she has him captured. My people believe that, for the sun to return next year and grow our crops and feed our fishes, Lady Moonshine must fall in love with the Sun Prince on the Solstice and release him from captivity with a kiss.”

Thorin smiled, understanding coming to him.

“I see. So you want to put Kili in the part of this Sun Prince? So he has to kiss your daughter. And hopefully, the two of them will finally get their act together and announce their intentions?”

The former bargeman nodded.

“Exactly, my friend. Our traditions call for people to dress up as Sancta Claws and play tricks on each other in the run up to the Solstice. What we call the _Advent to Full Dark_. And it would be a fitting foolery – my daughter is expecting it to be Fili who she has to release, not Kili.”

The dwarf king shrugged.

“I don’t really mind either way, Bard. I’ll ask the boys to decide amongst themselves. Kili will probably have a good idea of whether your daughter would find it amusing – or not. I’ll let him decide.”

The king of Laketown nodded.

“That sounds like a good plan, Thorin. I’ll tell the priests and priestesses to ask your nephews directly.”

The dwarf lord nodded, taking another sip of the warming whisky. Beside the fire, with all this winter jollity and talk of merriment, he was beginning to feel drowsy.

“Tell me, Bard,” he stared into the flickering flames.

“What is all this Sancta Claws business about? I’ve seen them all dressed up in the streets of Laketown these past few years at Solsticetide – in their red and white cloaks and hats, throwing snowballs at each other and scrumping for winter apples. It seems like a rather silly tradition. What does it all mean?”

His friend stared back into the flames, and was silent for a while.

“It is said in the old tales, Thorin, that Lady Moonshine has a secret helper – and that helper is called Old Nick. It was said that he lives in the ground, where the dead things grow. And these things can be awoken when the nights are long and dark by the powers of moonlight.”

The dwarf king shuddered.

“Sounds like a horrible story to me. What’s that got to do with Sancta Claws?”

The former bargeman leaned forward, his voice hushed and low.

“Well Thorin, they’re actually one and the same entity. The Heart of Darkness could use her powers at night-time on the Full Dark to resurrect the dead. She would resurrect them all, until they outnumbered the living. And so without the right kind of... _propitiation_ , she would charge corpses to rise from the ground and hunt down all living things with warm beating hearts that still drew breath. And these ghouls would be led by the most wicked ghoul of them all – by Old Nick himself.”

The dwarf king sipped at his whisky slowly.

“Lovely. And you tell that story to children! What kind of _propitiation_ does your moon goddess want on the Solstice, dare I ask?”

The bargemen shrugged.

“Sacrifice, Thorin. That’s what my kind used to offer her. A human sacrifice, to be exact. But that was in the old days, when people were primitive and ignorant. In their mercy, the gods decreed a long time ago that such gestures were no longer required, when the Heart of Darkness was defeated by her alter-ego, the Lady Moonshine. Old Nick became her Sancta Claws. And we stopped sacrificing people to these winter spirits.”

The dwarf king nodded approvingly.

“I’m very glad to hear it, Bard. But I still don’t get the foolery? Why do you all need to play tricks on each other?”

The former bargeman waved his hand.

“Sancta Claws is no longer the demon creature he once was, Thorin. But it is said he still has the capacity for malice. And at the end of the year, he judges everyone’s actions, and will violently punish anyone who is found to have transgressed against the orders of the gods... Unless of course, they’re tricked upon first, which means he then has no power to hurt them.”

The dwarf king finished his whisky, and tried to sit up straight in the chair.

“Of course, I see. So you play a joke on your friends, so the Sancta Claws moon demon doesn’t hurt them. It’s all rather grim, isn’t it though?”

The king of Laketown smiled.

“That’s the holiday season for you, Thorin. It’s dark a lot at this time of year. And people drink too much. Their imaginations get the better of them.”

The dwarf king nodded, yawning.

“It certainly is dark. Well, my friend, I’ll have words with my two eligible young nephews at once, and we’ll see if one of them can be your Sun Prince tomorrow night and make your crops grow again next year.”

The king of Laketown smiled, rising to leave.

“Thank you, Thorin. And if you don’t mind me saying one last thing – you’d be best to put out a saucer of ale or two for the Old Ones tonight, in case they come past the gates of Erebor on their night-time prowl.”

The dwarf king’s mouth opened in a yawn.

“The Old Ones?”

But the king of Laketown was already making for the door.

“It is a tale for another night, my friend. And dare I say – one for the hours of daylight.”

And without another word, the thin-faced man was gone from the room, and the dwarf lord was left with a head full of questions and a bottle full of whisky.

And as he drained the second glass he poured, wondering how he should broach this tricky subject matter with his beloved nephews in the morning, he found that the questions only grew louder in his mind.

For despite his full knowledge that he sat safe and peaceful in the middle of his own secure little kingdom, at that very moment as the flames crackled away, yards from his side, he felt somehow vulnerable and alone.

It was almost as if there were eyes watching him from behind the curtain of fire in the bright, jolly hearth, listening to his thoughts with a cold, dark indifference and whispering ancient warnings into his mortal, dwarf ears.

And as his mood of foreboding deepened, he was struck by the certainty that amongst his kind – amongst the living – there were no answers to the doubts he now felt, no solutions to the riddles he could feel staring blackly out at him from the shadows of the empty room.

Indeed, if anyone had asked him – at that moment in time, before the feeling passed – he would have swore blind that the only one with the key to the puzzle was the hidden face behind those flickering flames in the fireplace.

And at that very moment, Thorin would have asked it aloud to speak to him too, if only he had the ability to make out what the fiery tongues were trying to warn him of...

But as quickly as it came, the feeling left him.

And in a few short hours when the daylight returned and he woke beside his hobbit in his warm and cosy bed, he would know in his heart that his mind had only been playing tricks on him.

And he would blame it all on the whisky, as most people do.

 

________________________________________

**1.4: Erebor – late at night** , **Solstice-Eve Eve**

 

At the stroke of the third hour in the dead of the night, the wind howled through the raw black air and broke sharply on the Northern flank of the Lonely Mountain, sending gusts and eddies swirling through the shuttered windows and air-vents of the buried mountain kingdom.

And as one especially frigid draft blasted through the sleeping quarters, none of the living creatures who slept in their beds within the rooms stirred – though they may well have felt their dreams turn darker and their blood run colder.

All that is, except for one.

The blonde prince of Erebor, already sleeping in a light hazy dose from which he wished to wake up, felt the icy chill run through his hair and woke to the feeling that something cold and unseen was tracing its fingers over his face, calling to him by his secret name that only his mother knew.

_“No, get away from me – ”_

The whispered words on his lips came to him blindly, and he sat straight up in bed, feeling the stiff night breeze playing on the hairs of his bare chest.

A dream. That must have been it.

Just another bad dream.

He’d had many of them, these past few years – but lately they’d seemed to stop.

Until tonight.

Beside him, he felt a shifting movement in the bed and felt his brother’s warm body close against his.

“Fili? Are you alright?”

His brother’s voice was sleepy, and Fili felt guilty for waking him again, over such a little thing. He couldn’t even remember the bad dream he must have had.

“I’m fine, Kili. Go back to sleep.”

He felt his brother’s arms encircle his chest, and then Kili’s mouth was on the back of his neck, nuzzling away the blonde braids with his nose and kissing the skin underneath.

In the darkness, he closed his eyes, feeling himself melt as his brother’s mouth moved to his ear, as Kili’s scent enveloped his own, and the warmth of the other dwarf’s body soothed his troubled mind.

“You’re shivering, Fi. What’s wrong? Was it another dream?”

There was concern in Kili’s voice, and Fili’s sense of guilt deepened. Now he felt like a fool.

“I don’t even remember, Ki. It was nothing. I’m sorry for waking you.”

His brother kissed again at the skin on his bare shoulder, and pushed him gently backwards onto the bed.

“Then you should lie back and rest, Fi. Let me help you get to sleep.”

Kili’s voice was husky, and Fili swallowed thickly, wondering what his brother meant and finding his mind had all sorts of enticing ideas.

And as he felt his brother’s hands move across his body in the dark, he heard the beating of his heart rising, and his breath coming quicker in the darkness.

“Kili, what are you – ”

His brother put a finger to his lips, and the tickle of silky hair as his head moved under the sheets silenced Fili’s questions.

“Oh, Ki – ”

His brother was kissing him again – much more intimately than before – and the force of Kili’s hot, wet mouth on his trembling skin was making his body awaken fully.

“It’s alright, Fi – don’t fight it.”

He tried to make his body obey – tried to make his muscles relax, and give in to the sensations his brother was giving him – and then suddenly he had no choice.

Kili’s mouth was on his cock, and the warm, tight, sucking feeling that enclosed his tender organ made him shudder with excitement and claw his fingers across the bedsheets in helpless need.

“Kili – ”

His brother knew how to work him – with that wicked tongue of his. These last three years he’d been practising, and he’d been a natural to begin with anyway.

His heart pounding and his cheeks flushed and hot against the chill night air, Fili tried to bury his moan in the side of the pillow – and then in the other side – until his head was flung back as his body stiffened and released itself of its own accord in a trembling, glorious burst.

He felt his brother’s hands on his thighs, as Kili recovered himself, and by the time his breath was returning to normal his brother was lying beside him again. Curling his own body against Fili’s – a soft and loving source of heat that stroked his chest gently and murmured in his ear that he was loved.

“I love you too, Kili.”

Fili heard something in his voice crack, and felt a tear roll down his face.

“I know you do.”

His brother’s voice was content as he sighed in happiness, and Fili felt another gentle kiss on the skin of his neck.

Giving in to the warmth and softness at last, Fili felt the drowsiness coming to him already, now his body was spent and his mind was clear.

But then his brother spoke, his voice anxious and serious.

“Fi, you’re not jealous of Sigrid, are you?”

The blonde dwarf opened his eyes in the darkness, feeling awake again with sudden confusion.

“No, Kili. I know you like her. And she’s a lovely girl. She likes you too.”

He paused for a moment, trying to think.

“I’m happy for you. You know that?”

But Kili curled closer to his body, not letting him go so easily.

“You like her too, don’t you?”

Fili said nothing, wondering what this could all be about now – at this ungodly hour.

“Kili, is this all about that stupid Solstice ritual? The one tomorrow? Where I’m supposed to dress up in some silly costume, and sit out all night in a cage in the lake until you all _rescue_ me at sunrise?”

He felt his brother’s eyelashes flicking on his neck, as if Kili was blinking.

“If you don’t want to do it, Fi, I don’t mind taking your place. I just – don’t want you thinking about the two of us spending all the Solstice Eve festivities together, having fun without you. While you’re bored and cold in the middle of that lake. I don’t want you to feel jealous, Fili.”

The blonde dwarf sighed himself, understanding at last.

“I’m not jealous, Ki. Honestly. Have fun with her – please. I want the two of you to enjoy yourselves. And I’ll join you for all the fun on the Solstice Day itself.”

He felt his brother kiss him on the shoulder once more.

“Thank you, Fi. We’ll try to have fun.”

He felt his brother take a deep breath.

“And you know, Sigrid likes you too, Fi. You’re welcome to join us... later on. If you want to, that is.”

The blonde dwarf smiled in the darkness.

“I think you need to sleep, Kili. I know I do. I’m going to be all alone on that lake this time tomorrow.”

His brother laughed softly, and kissed him again.

“Sweet dream, Fi.”

“Sweet dreams.”

And even after his brother had turned away on his side, Fili felt the warmth and lazy contentment flowing through his heart, and soon fell into a soft, dark dream where he felt he was falling through fluffy black clouds...

...until suddenly – he saw it.

A flaming eight-spoked circle, rising from the dark before his eyes, calling to him – calling to him by the name that only his mother was supposed to know, in a fiery tongue in an ancient language that he could not speak...

But it was a language he could understand, alright.

And as the circle grew closer, in his dream, the only thing he could do was scream...

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So originally I was going to put this out in three big chunks, but since I'm still writing the last part, I don't want to get ahead of myself with posting part two and then having a long gap, so I'll just put it out in smaller pieces. To be fair, it's probably easier to digest this way anyway!

**2.1: Sulga’s keep, morning time, Solstice Eve**

The greyish light of the morning sun was streaming in through the balcony window, bright enough to illuminate the orc-queen’s boudoir for her bleary, blinking vision.

She sat up in bed, taking in the elf’s snoring features and reaching with relish for the service bell on her bedside table.

“Wakey wakey, Legolas.”

She watched him burst back to the real world with a start as she shook on the bell.

“Oh, Sulga – it’s you – I thought we were under attack!”

She put the bell down and ruffled his platinum hair.

“A pleasant dream, I’m sure. I trust we were winning?”

The elf yawned, and pulled the fox-fur blanket closer around his shoulders.

“I don’t know. The things we were fighting – they didn’t have faces. I don’t know what they were.”

The orc-queen stretched her arms, tensing the muscles around her biceps to make sure he got a good view of just how strong she was.

“It doesn’t matter what they look like, my friend. If they move, then they’re living. And if they’re living, we should kill them. Face or no face.”

The elf shuddered, sitting up and eyeing her doubtfully.

“I think I had too much wine last night, Sulga. It always gives me strange dreams. And a sore head the next morning.”

He rubbed at his temples gingerly, and the orc queen giggled at the sight of his pallid face.

“I bet that’s not the only place you’re sore.”

But before the elf could reply, there was a knock on the door and a large orc butler came scurrying through, his arms laden with a shiny silver cloche.

“For madame. Breakfast is served.”

He bowed to the pair of them and set his delivery down on the table, dashing back the way he’d come before the orc queen could find something to complain about.

“Excellent, Jeeves! Let’s get this party started. I’m starving!”

Flinging the lid away, she inspected the tray with evident satisfaction. Little candles were burning under a heating rack, keeping warm some frosted mince pies and a jug of brandy butter. Two tall tumblers had been filled with a dark brown liquid, and her staff had hand-rolled a fat wad of the Wizard’s Weed into a nicely shaped cone.

“Here, drink this – it’ll put some colour back on your cheeks.”

She thrust one of the tumblers at the elf prince, and set to work lighting the cone on the chauffage tea lights.

“Isn’t it a bit early for this, Sulga? I mean, I normally start the day with a kale smoothie and some fruit.”

The orc queen took a deep draw of the cone, and tipped half the tumbler down her throat with a nod.

“It’s Solstice Eve, Legolas. Drink your brandy and shut up. We have work to do today, and it’s only right that we make this precious time we have together count for something before we have to face those ingrate peasants.”

She took another drag and passed the cone to him.

“You can ask me nicely for some fruit, see what I say?”

The elf accepted the herbal cigarette with a grimace and sniffed at the brandy glass.

He took a sip and collected his thoughts.

“Please may I have some fruit, Mistress?”

Sulga giggled.

“It depends, Leggy. What are you willing to do to acquire this fruit? It’s winter you know – and it doesn’t just grow on trees!”

The elf eyed her up, taking a sip on the brandy and shaking his head.

“Whatever you command, Mistress.”

She grinned, and grabbed the cone from his fingers.

“Great. If you don’t want mince pies for breakfast, then you can eat something else. It’s not quite the same as a fruit pie, but it’s nice and warm just the same.”

She motioned under the furs and wiggled suggestively, winking at the elf prince.

He took a gulp of the brandy and ducked under the covers, leaving the orc queen to lie back and take a smug drag on the cone.

And while the elf prince worked at her fruit pie, she wasted no time in getting tucked into the real sugared pastry herself, dunking it whole into the brandy butter and gobbling it down in between the elf’s more stimulating efforts.

“That’s a good job, Leggy. You’ll earn yourself your reward for sure...”

She broke off as her face creased up and the moan escaped her lips, and allowed the elf to finish her off and revel in the pleasure of a Solstice gift well given.

He re-emerged from under the furs, and knocked back the brandy with a sigh.

“Maybe you could... since it’s Solstice Eve and all...”

There was hope shining in his eyes for a second, as if he believed his reward might materialise there and then.

She took a satisfied drag on the cone and blew smoke out through her nostrils at him.

“Fat chance, Leggy. You know the rules. You need to earn your keep. And you can beg all you want, but we both know that that’s the way you like it. And more to the point, it’s the way _I_ like it.”

He nodded miserably and drained the last of the brandy, rising from the furs and grabbing for his red and white robe.

Sulga admired his lean body as he dressed, her eyes lingering on the leather belt and metal cock-cage of the chastity device she’d installed upon him on her dungeon A-frame.

He’d seemed enthusiastic about the idea the night before, and if he was getting sulky with her now because she wouldn’t let him come then that was just too bad.

If he expected the orc-queen to pleasure _him_ , he’d have to earn that generosity first.

Wiping the crumbs and brandy butter from her chin, she took a last draw of the cone and stubbed the end out on the tray.

“Right then, Leggy. Let’s pay our Solstice respects to Saltmarsh and see what’s happening. They’ll be starting their rituals at solar noon today, and we don’t want to miss out on the _fun_.”

He waited for her to dress herself, watching her body with greedy eyes as she slid on her white rabbit gown and applied a slick of the scarlet lipstain.

“You look nice, Sulga. Very glamorous. Not at all like the elfmaids in Mirkwood.”

She flashed him a ruby-lipped grin that exposed her pointed teeth.

“I should hope not! Gods below. Now let’s go and get saddled up.”

The two of them made their way through the keep towards the stables, heading first to the ground floor and picking up the bag of provisions Sulga had requested, and then through the winding corridors until the heavy outer door was opened and the blast of fresh air hit them.

The sky was cold and clear – full of the promise of an icy winter’s day of bright sunshine, with not a cloud in sight.

But as they trod over the crunchy layers of yesterday’s snows on their way across the courtyard, the elf prince gave a cry of alarm.

“Big Red – oh no!”

His blonde ponytail bobbed as he ran over to the gaping stable door, hanging half off its hinges and with no horse inside to be seen.

The orc queen scowled at the cowering attendant hurrying over to her, nodding pointedly at the empty stall.

“What happened there? Were you drinking on duty again?”

The little orc’s cheek twitched, and he shook his head quickly.

“I beg your forgiveness, my lady! It was the horse – it kicked the door in during the night and escaped. It ran out to the woods through the gate.”

She stared towards the gate posts, seeing the grille was up.

“Why was the gate open, you idiot?”

The orc shook his head.

“For the Old Ones, my lady! We put the offering here, in the courtyard, so they would bless this house and everyone in it. If we’d left it outside, they wouldn’t have known it was us.”

Sulga rolled her eyes and cracked the cringing servant a blow across the temple.

“Tonight, put the offering _outside_ the gateposts, there’s an idea. And shut the gate, or I’ll have your head on one its spikes!”

She strutted over to the stables, and patted the elf prince on the shoulder.

“Your horse escaped in the night. My guards are morons. I shall find you another steed, have no worry.”

The elf stared towards the open gate.

“It’s not that far to Mirkwood, I’m sure he’ll find his way home. He’s a clever boy.”

He sniffed plaintively, and threw a suspicious glance into the gloom of the stables.

“And normally so calm tempered. I wonder what could have made him bolt like that.”

Sulga shrugged, and made for the shadows.

“Who knows? Must have been homesick.”

She clapped him across the back, wondering whether he’d prefer to see the servant flogged before or after they set off. It grieved her to delay such an imbecile’s punishment for another day, but they were growing short of time and the sun was getting higher.

“Tell you what, Legolas. You wait here, and I’ll fetch Nightmare. You’ll soon feel better with the wind in your hair and the ground far beneath you.”

The elf gave her a rueful nod and sauntered into the courtyard.

She watched him for a second, trying to gauge the depths of his mood, and reached into her bag to make sure all the goodies were packed.

It would be a cold ride to Saltmarsh – and beyond.

She had to ensure they had adequate supplies to keep the journey pleasant.

Thankfully, her servants had managed to follow her instructions in fitting the large, two-seater sleigh on Nightmare’s back. The big black horse stood snorting at the stable door, as if she could sense her time was coming to take to the skies once more.

“That’s right, girl. Time for us to go _hunting_.”

The orc queen reached into her bag and unwrapped a piece of raw, bloody flesh to offer the filly – carefully keeping her fingers away from the beast’s teeth as it lunged at the meat with a shriek.

And stroking the big muzzle as the horse chewed wetly, Sulga led the creature out by the reins and stepped into the sleigh.

“Let’s go get Legolas.”

She squeezed her knees gently and the horse trotted forward, coming to a stop in the main courtyard where the elf was waiting, hunched over in thought.

From her vantage point high on the beast’s back, she could see something on the ground had caught his interest.

She looked herself and saw there were patterns in the snow – shuffling, rolling patches of flattened drifts and upturned dunes – as if something had been dragged across the courtyard from the fields beyond.

Dragged towards the over-toppled ale flagon and the empty plate in the centre of the yard.

She shook her head, reaching into her bag for the silver flask and taking a swig for the road.

“Time to go, Leggy. Have you ever flown before?”

The elf got to his feet, his face full of doubt.

“Can’t say I ever have, Sulga. Do we need to strap in?”

He stepped a foot onto the stirrup and swung himself into the saddle next to her.

She watched him sit down, and handed him some ropes to tie himself in with.

“These will hold you down, so you’re perfectly secure, my friend.”

He sniffed.

“Did you bring my bow?”

The orc queen nodded, and gestured to a large hamper attached to the back of the sleigh.

“Our weapons are in there, Legolas. But have no fear – we shall have little use for them. Not in Saltmarsh anyway.”

The elf prince stared at her in surprise.

“Anyway? Where _else_ are we heading?”

But the orc queen clicked her tongue and pulled on the reins, and at once the horse started forward into a gallop, making straight through the gate and out into the open snows, spreading its wings wide as it prepared for take-off.

And with a gasp, the elf prince pressed himself into the saddle and clung to the ropes for dear life as the prodigious horse soared into the cold bright air.

Before them, the whole white landscape opened up as the horse pranced through the skies, shrieking with glee as its leathery wings rode the updrafts and took them higher and higher. And suddenly, even the jagged peaks of Dol Guldur seemed smaller and more fragile. Just more patterns jutting out of the dazzling snow – mere heaps of earth that could be knocked down with a single smack from a giant fist.

The orc queen laughed, shaking her hair into the wind and glancing in the direction of the mountains, catching sight of the tallest peak that stood alone by the side of the shining inland lake, oblivious and exposed in the glaring sunshine.

“You’ll see,” she promised, and her red lips drew back into a snarl.

“Soon, they’ll _all_ see.”


	3. Chapter 3

**2.2: Laketown jetty, noontime, Solstice Eve**

By the sparkling grey lake water, the black-robed High Priestess watched the shadow of the sundial hit the noontime mark. And with a frown of worry, she raised her arms to silence the gathered crowd.

With the sun now at its zenith, it was time to begin.

The sun was dead.

“My friends, look to the skies and tremble! It is high noon, and the sun has met its end. From now on, all livings creatures of warm blood and beating hearts will feel the dread of Full Dark, when the longest nights are upon us, and the dead shall rise from their graves.”

From within the ranks of assembled Laketown villagers, the dark-haired prince of Erebor flashed a smile at his blonde brother, dressed in a yellow woollen robe and waiting by the steps to the small wooden jetty. For once, his braids had been untied and his bright hair hung loosely past his shoulders.

Kili knew he hated to be seen in public with his locks undone like this. It was a style he preferred to keep for his brother’s eyes alone – the only times Fili would let himself go was in their passionate, intimate trysts. And it seemed to Kili’s eyes that there was something vaguely indecent about his brother standing there like that, his hair exposed to the world, but his body clothed and hidden from the sight of his clandestine lover’s eyes.

Fili saw him grin, and raised an eyebrow in faint response as the breeze played with his hair.

He was joined on the gangway by Bard’s eldest daughter, clad in her own ceremonial garb of white dress and silver crown. Her light brown hair was braided around the circlet, holding it in place and showing off her pretty face.

But despite the seriousness of the Laketown ritual, Kili was trying hard not to laugh at his brother’s expression – the blonde dwarf was trying his best to look solemn and patient, and it was an attempt that would have fooled most of the villagers.

But Kili knew better.

He could see the awkwardness written clear on that face. And he wondered whether his brother was as fine as he’d insisted about being locked away for the rest of the day while his younger brother attended the Solstice Eve feast with Sigrid.

The High Priestess motioned to the floating cage that sat by the jetty, the one his brother would soon occupy.

The whole thing had been constructed by the Laketown women out of hazel twigs and bark, and Kili was impressed at how sturdy the round contraption appeared to be, and how they’d even managed to craft a hinged door into the rounded side of the domed raft.

Not that he envied his brother, of course. The wind would blow chilly across the lake tonight, and how much shelter could those twigs really provide from the icy gusts?

How much better to pass the Solstice Eve inside by the rosy glow of a firelight – and in the company of someone as lovely as Sigrid.

He saw the High Priestess raise her arms, and turned to regard the sombre woman. Her belly was round and full, marking her as blessed and unfit to play the childless moon deity. She’d recently wed two of her black-robed priests, and Kili wondered vaguely if the double wedding was by accident or design.

“All over the Earth, the plants shall die and the animals with them, for the Sun Prince has been seized by Our Lady of the Snows, and is now and forever her prisoner in the watery underworld, unable to light the fire in the sky or keep the Earth Mother warm. All of us feel the Sun Prince’s pain, as his light is dimmed and the snows entomb the earth that he loves.”

The High Priestess gave the young woman a nod, and Sigrid realised that was her cue.

“Behold, citizens of the Earth – your Sun Prince and protector is mine. He shall be cast down into the depths of the lake forevermore, because his love for my earthly sister is unbearable to me. Since they have both cast me adrift in the cold, I will break the pair of them in endless snow and darkness.”

The young woman stared into the crowd with baleful blue eyes, and Kili felt her gaze seek him out and linger on him a second too long, as if she was lost in thought at the sight of his face.

She continued on with her ceremonial lines.

“And what the union of Sun and Earth has created, I shall now destroy. What is dead shall rise again, under my light and in my name. My hungry ghosts shall walk my sister’s earth, and swallow her children in my pitiless darkness.”

Sigrid turned towards Fili, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“And the fires of the Sun Prince shall be drowned by the waters of eternity.”

Kili watched as his brother gave him a slight nod, before allowing himself to be steered by Sigrid and marched to the open door of the wooden cage. And with a gentle prod from the young woman, he stepped into the gloom within and disappeared from view.

And with a wry smile, Sigrid closed the twig door and tied up the entrance with a white ribbon from her pocket, sealing Fili inside to ritually banish the sun from the Laketown skies.

The High Priestess nodded to the woman, and Sigrid raised her hands, and clapped once as loud as she could.

“The sun is no more. The Full Dark is upon us and our judgement is at hand.”

And at the young woman’s words, the High Priestess motioned towards the wooden cage – but she needn’t have bothered. Some of the Laketown men were already making for their little boats, moored on the jetty. Once the crowds had left for the feast in the village, the wooden cage would be towed further out into the middle of the lake, ensuring that the Sun Prince was unreachable to all of those who waited for him on the shore.

Kili watched the little boats hooking their towing lines to the wooden cage, wondering whether his brother would indeed be comfortable for the night.

There were clothes and provisions in the cage, he knew, and although no candles or kindling were allowed inside the flammable craft, the priests had assured them both there would be ample furs and soft coverings for the dwarf prince to stay warm overnight.

With any luck once it got dark, his brother would sleep soundly on the lake, safely removed from thoughts of whatever fun he might be missing back in the village.

“I’m so glad that was over – I thought I would forget my lines!”

Kili smiled again at the young woman, as she strode over to him, her blue eyes shining.

“But you did it all perfectly, Sig. I’m sure your Lady Moonshine approves.”

The woman sidled up beside him, standing closer than she needed to, and fixing him with a serious look.

“I’ll have to kiss him when he comes back, you know. A proper kiss – a kiss of _true love_.” She grinned at him, staring deep into his brown eyes and searching for his response.

“I hope you won’t mind.”

Kili saw her teasing smile, and shook his head gamely.

“My lady, I wouldn’t know which of you to envy more.”

The woman stepped closer, and Kili caught the scent of the floral perfume that she wore.

“That’s good, Kili. Because I’m rather looking forward to locking lips with your brother. He’s as pretty as you are, and I imagine he could learn to enjoy a woman’s touch.”

She took his hand, and entwined her fingers in his.

And bowing her head slightly, she leant still closer so she could whisper into his ear.

“And I imagine _you_ would rather enjoy the sight of me kissing your brother, wouldn’t you Kili?”

The dark haired dwarf smiled at the thought, and nodded slightly.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

She stared into his eyes and nodded.

“And what about after we’re married, Kili? Would you mind if I kissed him then?”

The dwarf grinned, and closed his eyes.

“Because I won’t mind if _you_ kissed him.”

The dwarf’s eyes snapped open.

“I won’t mind if you do _all sorts of things_ with him, Kili. As long as I can watch.”

The dwarf gulped for air.

“Sigrid, you can’t say these things. Not out here. Someone might hear.”

She saw he was getting flustered, and smiled sweetly.

“Say what? That we’re going to be married? I didn’t realise it was a big secret, Kili. Maybe you better hurry up and propose to me before I get bored and tell everyone myself.”

She fixed him with a wink, and he shook his head, frowning.

“You know, Sig – I don’t even know if we _will_ get married. We’ll have to wait until Spring returns to be sure. We’ll need to wait for the marriage season to begin, for our people to successfully pass their first Solstice together – for your Sun Prince to return – ”

She poked him in the ribs, and he giggled.

“You’re so mean, Kili! I have no idea how your brother puts up with you.”

He smiled at the thought, and took hold of the woman’s waist – in front of the milling crowds.

“I’ll show you how, Sigrid.”

He pulled the woman towards him, and let her mouth find his.

And at the soft touch of her lips, he felt suddenly emboldened. He kissed her truly – with purpose – and when they finally broke apart he was aware the villagers were staring open mouthed in their direction.

Well let them stare, he thought merrily. There’s nothing that can spoil our happiness now.

Nothing at all.

She stared at him, her eyes bright and curious, unwilling to let him go yet unsure what he was doing.

“Of course I want to marry you, Sig. If you’re happy to be my wife, we can announce it at the Solstice feast tomorrow.”

Her blue eyes widened further, and he heard her sharp intake of breath as she nodded.

“Oh Kili, of _course_ I’ll be your wife. Let’s get married as soon as we can!”

She kissed him again, and he let her lead this time – enjoying the sensation of her urgency and desire, and imagining what they might do later on now they were an official match.

His body stiffened at the thought already.

“Come on, Sig – let’s head into the village, and find somewhere to sit where it’s warm and cosy. It’s cold out here, and it’ll soon be dark.”

The woman nodded, and took his hand.

“I know a perfect place, Kili. Away from prying eyes.”

And so the pair of them started up the trackway back to the village, their eyes on each other as they walked, and their hearts full of joy for what lay ahead.

And while they grew more distant from the cold lake shore, they never thought to wonder whether their joyous embrace would have been visible from inside the floating wicker cage.

And as the lonely lair of the Sun Prince was anchored into the deepest waters and the little boats turned back to shore, the clouds began to creep over from the West where the sun was sinking low, threatening snow.

 

______________________________________________________

 

**2:3: Saltmarsh market, noon, Solstice Eve**

As the sun crept closer to its midday zenith, the big black filly soared over the town and landed on the roof of her former stables with a blood-curdling whinny.

The teenage stableboy who came to greet the odd couple was dumbstruck at the beast’s appearance, and could only stare slack-jawed as the orc queen forced a piece of silver into his one remaining hand with a cackle.

“See to it she’s brushed down and fed properly. But I warn you, boy – if she’s not given fresh meat, she’ll have your other hand off!”

The wide eyed elf prince waved up at the creature and took a sip from the hip flask.

“Valar in heaven, Sulga – what a ride! What a view. In all my time in my father’s kingdom, I have never seen such dizzying heights – such majestic vistas!”

“Of course not, Legolas, you’ve never been to the Marshlands before. We have our own, very special ways around here and it’s time the rest of Middle Earth knew all about our little kingdom’s charms.”

The orc queen grabbed the elf’s still shaking hand and relieved him of her flask.

“The market square is this way, let’s go.”

The two of them trod through the dirty slush and made for the High Street, where the shops were bedecked with tinsel and holly wreaths, and peasants loitered merrily in doorways laughing and drinking steaming cups of spiced wine with their friends.

Seeing a gang of merry-making children running down the street with snowballs, the elf prince reached into his red and white robe.

“On no, I must have forgot my reindeer antlers!”

Sulga smiled and said nothing, remembering how she’d rifled through the robe by her dungeon fireside while its owner was blindfolded on her A-frame.

“What a shame that is. But have no fear – the craft market will be in full swing right now, and I’m sure you can pick up something seasonal from one of the tat-merchants there. There will be Sancta Claws hats galore.”

The elf brightened.

“That’s a great idea, Sulga. This season is all about the children, and feeding their imaginations. There’s nothing they love more than Sancta Claws and his flying reindeers!”

They strolled past the cheery peasants, who doffed their caps in homage to their aristocratic betters and mumbled courtesies as the orc queen passed them by, not even dignifying their lowly obsequiance with a glance.

“Wow, Sulga – your people really love you. Nobody treats my family like that in Mirkwood!”

The orc queen smiled.

“The Marshlands will soon teach the rest of the kingdoms a thing or two, Legolas. And you’re more than welcome to be part of that learning experience.”

“Why, I should be delighted to – ”

The elf broke off as they crossed the bridge over the Salted River, staring at the frozen expanse of the Saltmarsh swamp, where the merry band of children were running to join their friends on the ice.

And indeed, hordes of kids stood gathered on the rink under the eyes of bored teenage girls – all of them knocking back mugs of the spicy steamed wine and throwing snowballs at oversized snowmen.

The elf frowned.

“What are they doing?”

Sulga shook her head dismissively.

“It’s a local children’s game. Whoever makes the most kills is named as Old Nick and is allowed to light the Solstice bonfire.”

The elf narrowed his eyes.

“But that snowman – it’s _moving_.”

The orc queen laughed, seeing a man’s arm had broken loose from one of the snowmen, and was waving into the thin air.

“Well, it won’t be for long, silly! The condemned criminals from the Saltmarsh dungeons are encased in the snowmen on Solstice-Eve Eve. If the snow and frost don’t kill them, then the snowballs will.”

The elf frowned, not understanding.

“The clever kids put rocks in their snowballs,” the orc queen explained, “it gives them a better projection arc. And of course there’s more chance of a kill – the bloodier the better!”

The elf heard a groan from the waving snowmen as a fast-flying missile knocked off its carrot nose, and looked away quickly.

“Right. Er... how quaint. Where’s the craft market, Sulga? We should get some of that mulled wine and warm up.”

“By the town square, follow me.”

And round the corner from the marsh, where the High Street met the Saltmarsh town hall, the crowd lay thicker and more densely packed. Delicious smells of cooked chestnuts and fragrant spices drifted across the tents and stalls, and the elf took a couple of farthings out from his belt to purchase some cups of the spicy red wine from a young village hag.

He took a sip, frowning as his refined palate was assaulted by the herbal concoction, and shuddered as he swallowed.

“Very warming,” he rasped. “I’m sure there’s aniseed in that wine. It’s a rather unusual mix of spices, I must say.”

The orc queen shook her head.

“That’s not aniseed, Legolas. It’s wormwood. Be careful how you go with that stuff, or you’ll be seeing dancing reindeer everywhere you go.”

She saw his face drop and giggled, removing her glove and reaching into her robe for her powder case.

“Excuse me, just need to powder my nose.”

She unclipped the lid of the case and shook out a line of the space dust onto the back of her hand, snorting it through her nostril and exhaling merrily.

“That’s better, Leggy. Now, let’s find the bonfire!”

He sipped on the mulled wine, as if trying to detect how much of the hallucinogenic herb had been added to the brew, and she grabbed his hand to lead him to the edge of the market square, to the firepit that had been dug for this very special occasion.

And as the pair of them stepped closer to the row of black-robed priests and priestesses who ringed the pit and blocked it from view, a gong sounded somewhere off to the side, and a thick and expectant hush fell on the market square.

On a wooden pulpit, before the town hall, the elderly High Priestess climbed to the top of a set of steps and raised her bony hands to the crowd, appealing for absolute silence.

“Fellow creatures of blood and bone, hear this! High noon is upon us, and the Heart of Darkness stands ready to devour the Sun Prince.”

The old woman stared at the crowd and shook her head, sending her white curls into a frenzied dance about her grim-set black eyes.

“For the living creatures of the world have abandoned and desecrated their Mother. The beasts and birds have stripped her bare and sapped her spirit, and the people have stolen from her lands and plundered her rivers dry. And after this wanton summer of sacrilege, the Heart of Darkness has vowed to punish those who have ravaged her sister, our Mother Earth. In her endless fury, the Dark Heart of Heaven will destroy the protector of the living creatures, and the fault lies with each and every one of us who still draws breath.”

At her words, the dark-robed priests and priestesses began to chant in some unknown, ancient language, and the crowd grew restless and agitated.

The High Priestess smiled and her black eyes glittered.

“The only way to save the Sun Prince from the Heart of Darkness is to offer her a token of our sorrows, and to hope that the Earth Mother sees our repentance, and can control her wayward sister before the fires of the sky go out forever.”

From somewhere in the crowd, there came a cry.

“Sacrifice! Give her sacrifice!”

A chorus of voices joined in to agree, and the dark-eyed priestess raised her wrinkled neck and nodded to her clergy.

“Mortals, it is noon. Feel the Full Dark of Heaven fall and tremble in dread. It is time to raise the fire and save the Sun Prince from darkness.”

The priests and priestesses drew back, revealing to the crowd the decorated pine tree, with tinsel, glitter, and pretty glass baubles filled with flickering tea lights.

But strapped to the base of the tree, at the bottom of the pit, those at the front of the crowd could see the prisoner wrapped in chains, the faggots and kindling piled up to his thighs in the shape of an eight-spoked star, and a black sack covering his face from view.

It was tied with a sparkly festive bow, around the doomed man’s neck.

The elf prince spluttered on his mulled wine and turned to the orc queen.

“They’re really going to sacrifice a living man to the Moon? Are these people crazy?”

The orc queen nodded.

“Oh, yes. Absolutely crazy. He’s a convicted highwayman – they got him for killing travellers on the way into Saltmarsh last summer. Been keeping him in a special cell for this all those months, just for this.”

She saw the elf prince wrinkle his nose, and nodded.

“My thoughts exactly. I think I should have words with these peasants. It’s time these small-minded priests were brought down a peg or two.”

She took a good swig from her hip flask, and approached the wooden pulpit.

“Sulga, what are you doing?”

The elf prince ran after her, unsure what his friend’s intentions were, and whether it would get them into trouble. The mood of the crowd was tense, and all the eyes were fixed on a small boy, ambling through the parting villagers with a flaming torch, making for the trail of firepowder that lead into the pit.

“Sulga, no!”

The elf prince tried to grab at his friend, but he was too late.

She swaggered up the steps of the wooden pulpit, and addressed the High Priestess herself.

“Mother, listen to yourself! How dare you insult the Queen of Heaven with such a paltry offering? Is it any wonder the Marshlands are barren and our crops don’t grow?”

The old priestess spun round, her face a picture of anger, and raised her hands to appeal to the crowd.

“Well, look who we have here. Our illustrious _queen_. Who gained her title through murdering her own uncle, no less. I shall pay no heed to moral lectures from such a _creature_.”

The elf prince drew a deep breath, seeing the tight lipped smile blossom on Sulga’s face, and seeing her fist draw back in readiness.

And while the entire Saltmarsh market square watched, the orc queen launched her blow and punched the old woman right in the nose, knocking her off her feet and sending her tumbling down the wooden steps.

The gasp of shock around the crowd was audible, and the elf prince flinched and gulped down his wine.

“Oh Sulga, what have you done now?”

The priests by the firepit rushed to their Mother’s assistance, helping her back to her feet, and glaring at the orc queen with unbridled rancour. One of the burly priests took a step towards the pulpit, his eyes blazing.

“You dare assault the Lady’s chosen one? You may be our queen, but you are not above the law, Sulga of the Red Lodge!”

He beckoned to the town watchmen, standing staring dumbly at the High Priestess’s bleeding nose.

“Seize her, take her to the town cells at once! The sacrifice must proceed or we shall all be cursed!”

The orc queen giggled, taking a sip from her flask and putting her hand on hip, pulling a face at the angry priest.

“Or what will happen, _priest?_ Our crops will fail again, like they always do? Our river will run with salt, as it always does? You people have angered the Heart of Darkness for too long, offering her these pathetic criminals. How can their petty lives ever sustain her through the winter and stop her feasting on the Sun Prince?”

The crowd were murmuring to each other, following the theological debate with great interest, but the elf couldn’t say where their sympathies lay.

The priest scowled.

“So what do you suggest? Bring the rest of the Red Lodge here and have them burn us all in the town square?”

He stared at her with contempt.

“You would love that, wouldn’t you? You fire-starters are all the same. Full of blood lust and fury, and lacking in true wisdom.”

But the orc queen laughed in scorn.

“What I would offer, _priest,_ is what the gods truly want. A sacrifice. A proper, _holy_ sacrifice. There is no sacrifice involved in offering up the worthless to the gods.”

She shook her head at the absurdity of the idea, and gestured to the crowd.

“What we need is a sacrifice worthy of the Heart. To feed her energy and stop her harming our Sun Prince. And then, next year, we shall have the most glorious harvest we have ever had in the Marshlands! It will be a new start to my reign – a new start for us all. As a new power on Middle Earth!”

The crowd were murmuring their approval at the idea, and the priests stood shaking their heads, appalled at their turn of fortune.

From the bottom of the wooden pulpit, the old woman spoke to the crowd, raising her arms to try to silence their excited whispering, and shaking her head in outrage.

“Do not listen to this ignorant creature, do not turn your back on us now – on Solstice Eve! We have served this town for centuries, and protected you all from the wrath of the gods. This wicked, spiteful fool knows nothing of the desires of the gods, and to stand there and spout her blasphemy is truly to invite their curse upon us all!”

But the orc queen could scent blood now, and she leaned over the side of the pulpit, and spat on the face of the Saltmarsh High Priestess.

The crowd went deadly quiet, shocked at this new display of sacrilege from their young queen, and unsure who to back.

But slowly, a ripple went through the mass of villagers, and within seconds they were cheering and howling, chanting her name in rapturous frenzy.

_“Sul-ga! Sul-ga! Sul-ga!...”_

The orc queen grinned down at the priests, and motioned to the town watchmen.

“Put all these traitors in the cell, along with the highwayman. And when I return perhaps we shall have more than one _sacrifice_ to feed to the Heart of Darkness!”

The elf prince stared around at the crowd, watching them raise their fists and pump at the air, the atmosphere of gaiety and jollity returning with a new edge of anticipation.

He frowned.

“Well Sulga, you’ve certainly impressed the villagers. They’ll all be expecting you to deliver something now.”

He swallowed nervously.

“How are you going to find a suitable sacrifice for Solstice Eve at this late hour?”

She grinned, following his thoughts and finding his suspicion of her motives rather amusing.

“Oh Legolas, don’t be silly! I’m not proposing to offer _you_ up to the Moon goddess!”

She giggled, seeing the colour run to his cheeks.

“I have a much better plan. One that will destabilise a mutual enemy right on our doorstep, and win over these peasants once and for all. We’ll both come out stronger after my plan is actioned.”

He shook his head, his eyes aghast.

“Who then? Who on earth can you be thinking of offering up to these villagers? You won’t find any volunteers, I can tell you that!”

She took his hand, beckoning in the direction of the stables.

“Don’t worry, Legolas. As I’ve told you before, I’m very good at making plans. And my spies have told me some very _interesting_ tales from one particular neighbouring kingdom. One that’s but a short flight away on Nightmare, and that happily contains the sort of trusting fools who conveniently leave themselves vulnerable to my constant, wicked schemes.”

He shook his head, reaching for the hip flask in her hands.

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.”

She smiled, eyeing up the pretty flames reflected in the coloured baubles on the Solstice tree.

“Let’s take a trip to Erebor, Legolas. I have an old friend could do with some company.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**2.4: The Lake, after dark, Solstice Eve**

The dwarf prince lay under the wolf-skin fur, listening to the howl of the wind as it whipped through the holes in his wicker cage, trying in vain to sleep.

He was sure he’d dozed off once or twice, but every time, the groaning voice of the wind had urged him back to wakefulness, and he sat lying with an uneasy feeling in his stomach, alone in the gently swaying raft in the middle of the lake.

Even if he wanted out, there was nowhere to go until morning now. He wished he’d not been so hasty to volunteer for the ritual, but he’d been so taken with the thought of earning a smile from Bard’s eldest daughter, that he hadn’t really thought about the full implications at the time.

And now he had nothing else to think about.

He knew the two of them would get married – it was obvious to everyone. It had been obvious to him even before he’d seen their embrace on the lakeshore.

And where would that leave him?

Alone? Unwanted? Forgotten?

It chilled him to think that this might be the first of many lonely nights he’d be spending without his brother. He’d grown so used to having Kili’s warm, loving body beside him every night that he couldn’t seem to get comfortable on his own.

The strange noises of the wind and the lake unnerved him, as if he was some silly dwarfling, imagining monsters under the bed and in the darkness.

He closed his eyes and rolled onto his other side, hoping that the strange sound of the wind would quieten if he turned his head against it.

But if anything it was worse, and suddenly the dwarf sat up in the cage, listening.

There was something out there. He was sure of it.

He could see nothing through the wicker holes now the sun was gone, but the sound wasn’t like the wind at all. It was almost like... a horse.

_Whinnying._

He lay back down again, sure that his ears were deceiving him, when suddenly he heard a male voice in the air above the cage.

There was no mistake this time – there _was_ someone out there.

He sat up, just in time to see a masked figure of Sancta Claws come bursting through the wicker door, holding a candle and a long curved knife in his mittened hand.

“Ho, ho, ho, dwarf! Time for your Solstice trick!”

Fili stared in amazement, unsure whether he was seeing a legitimate part of the Solstice ritual or a deranged prank by bored Laketown teenagers.

“Sancta Claws, what are you doing here? Nobody is supposed to come for me until dawn.”

The red and white robed figure nearly lost his balance as the craft listed suddenly.

“That’s right, dwarf. But the princess sent for you. She’s waiting for you in a house in Laketown with your brother, says she has some urgent business for you to attend to – so if you get in the sack, we can smuggle you in past the villagers. We’ll row you back afterwards. Nobody will ever know you were gone.”

The dwarf prince considered.

The thought of a secret, clandestine meeting with Sigrid and Kili was alluring, to say the least. Kili had made some audacious claims about the princess’ feeling towards him, and part of him was dying to see whether they might be true.

But still.

Wouldn’t he be abandoning his post? What if the gods really saw, and were angry?

He studied the Sancta figure, swaying in the doorway, obviously under the influence.

How had this drunk even got here?

The odds were high that this was just some silly joke. And the joke was on him!

“I’m sorry, that’s very thoughtful of them, but I need to stay here tonight. So tell them I said no.”

From the air above the cage, he suddenly heard an irritated voice.

“What’s taking so long? Bag him up, Leggy!”

The dwarf prince’s blood ran cold.

He knew that voice.

He’d heard it before a thousand times in his nightmares.

And suddenly, he knew that this was no joke – he was in danger, and he had no weapon to hand.

The figure of Sancta shook his head, and shrugged.

“Sorry to do this to you, dwarf. But, you know – it’s for the greater good and all. These dancing reindeer need to eat, and if they can’t eat you then they’ll devour the sun!”

The dwarf searched desperately for something he could use as a weapon as Sancta lurched closer, a big sack in one of his hands open and waiting.

“Stop, I’m warning you – !”

But the Sancta lunged at him with the canvas sack, and tripped over in the small space – his larger body nothing more than a hindrance in here.

Seeing his chance, the dwarf prince tore for the door, and plunged into the cold waters of the lake.

The shock of the freezing water hit him hard enough to hurt.

It was too cold for the man to survive – the Sancta impersonator could not possibly follow him in.

And he could just about make out the dim lights of Laketown – if only he could swim away from this danger, he might make it to shore, and find his friends...

There was a shriek in the air behind him, and all of a sudden, Fili heard a giggle.

He turned in the water to see the silhouette of a black winged horse bearing down on him in the moonlight, and saw the smiling face of the one he’d rather forget appear as if straight from his nightmares.

It was impossible.

But it was real.

_“Merry Solstice, Fili._ Long time no see.”

And before he could dive under the water, her strong white arms were lifting him, even as he struggled, and there was a sudden pain on the back of his skull as something heavy connected with his head.

And Fili found he could no longer move his freezing limbs.

“Put him in the sack, and tie it in the hamper. We’re all clear for take-off, Leggy!”

He could feel his thoughts slowing to a trickle, as the beckoning darkness engulfed his mind.

And as the world once more went still and cold, those half-remembered nightmares of flame and falling reared once more and squeezed his heart in their stifling and terrible embrace.

 

________________________________________________

**2.4: Laketown airspace, night-time, Solstice Eve**

At the urging of her master, the winged horse pranced skyward into the moonlit night, and the orc queen helped herself to a celebratory swig from her hip flask.

“Job’s a good ‘un, Leggy! Well done, we’ll be in Saltmarsh in an hour and have this little devil staked to the Solstice tree by sunrise.”

She regarded the elf, snorting a line of the space dust from the palm of his hand, and managing to spill most of it onto the floor of the sleigh. He giggled at the sight of the falling powder, and turned to her with wide, half-crazed eyes.

“Look Sulga, it’s snowing!”

She grabbed at her powder box before he could waste any more, and shook out a line for herself.

“So it is, Leggy. It’s because it’s that most wonderful time of the year.”

The elf’s blue eyes stared back at her, pale and vacant.

“And what time is that?”

She giggled.

“It’s time to have my enemies roasting like chestnuts on an open fire, that’s what it is! At sundown tomorrow they’ll light up the tree, and there will be one less Erebor dwarf for me to worry about!”

The elf frowned.

“Why do they need to kill him, Sulga? Are the reindeer really that hungry?”

She watched as the horse sailed over the sleeping crannogs of Laketown, and shrugged.

“Who knows, Leggy? All I know is once those dwarves find out exactly what’s happened to their precious kinsman, and who aided and abetted in his demise, there will be a war so big that it’ll waste half the continent. And I’ll be waiting, ready to strike at them all and make the Marshlands great again!”

She cackled evilly, raising her fist into the cold night air, and pretended to punch the moon.

The elf grinned and reached for the hip flask.

“That’s great, Sulga. Very clever. You’ve got it all sorted! Just as long as we’ve saved the world, that’s all that matters.”

She nodded, steering the horse higher to fly directly over the Lonely Mountain. And then, thrusting the reins to Legolas for safe keeping, she leant over the edge of the sleigh and gobbed onto the side of the enemy stronghold below.

“That’s for you, Kili – you ungrateful little fool! Sorry I can’t be there to watch the moment you hear about your brother, but I hope it’s going to really _rip your knitting!”_

The elf beamed like an idiot back at her, and shook his head.

“Who’s Kili?”

The orc queen smiled sweetly back at the elf’s blank grin, and put a finger to her lips.

“Never you mind. All you need to do is help me stake this dwarf to the tree in Saltmarsh, and see to it he burns nice and slow for a good Solstice roast.”

She stared maliciously down at the mountain, wondering whether her little Kili was inside at that very moment, thinking about how he had so stupidly spurned her advances.

She would soon give him something to cry about.

But the elf was shaking his head, eyeing the bag.

“But the dwarf’s already dead, Sulga – look. He isn’t moving.”

She followed his glassy gaze and regarded the sack herself, flapping in the night wind as Nightmare sped through the skies.

“He’s unconscious, Leggy. Not dead. We need him alive when he burns.”

She smiled nastily.

“The villagers love a good bonfire, the more screaming the better.”

But the elf was shaking his head at her like a petulant child who knew better than the grown-ups.

“No, Sulga. He fell in the lake. He’ll have frozen by now – in those wet clothes. He’ll be dead by the time we reach Saltmarsh, you’ll see.”

The orc queen frowned.

As befuddled as he was, her silver haired friend had a point.

What if the wretched dwarf didn’t make it to Saltmarsh, and ruined all her plans by freezing to death in the back of her sleigh? It was just the kind of thing these spiteful little creatures would do – especially this one, with his smug sense of _nobility._

She wanted him to burn!

She wanted his brother to hear that he’d burned!

And she needed his uncle to react to that burning provocation by rattling King Thranduil’s chain on the battle field and destroying all her enemies in her simple little engineered interracial war!

She glared at the sack in hostility.

“Aw, for the love of fucking Sauron! We’ll need to make a detour and dry him off now. Why couldn’t you have just bagged him up like I said?”

She stared at the snowy terrain, spying the start of the scrubby woodlands on the western shore of the lake, and an idea came to her at last.

“We’ll go to the witch-house, and dry him off in her oven.”

The elf looked sceptical.

“I don’t think he’ll fit in an _oven_ , Sulga, he’s a fully-grown – ”

“She used to roast men alive in it for her Solstice dinners, Leggy – with room for all the trimmings. It’ll do.”

The elf pursed his lips, thinking with all his remaining brain cells.

“Won’t she be rather put out at the three of us dropping in unannounced on Solstice Eve, demanding to be fed and turning up with no presents?”

The orc queen giggled, warming to her idea.

“Not really, my friend. The witch had a fondness for the old rum, and they say she fell of her broomstick one night while drunk-flying. Sank like a stone to the bottom of the lake, and was never seen again. But it means there’s bound to be more booze at her house too!”

The elf nodded, happy again.

“That’s a great plan, Sulga. You hip flask is almost dry. We can cook the dwarf, and drink all the rum at the same time.”

The orc queen nodded, clutching the reins and steering the horse towards a clearing in the trees.

“Let’s do it. They won’t need to light the tree until after dark on Solstice day – we’ve got plenty of time for a quick stopover to refuel.”

The elf finished the dregs from inside the hip flask.

“Say, Sulga – we’re like the Solstice threesome, it must be a sign. I’m dressed up as Sancta Claws, the dwarf has come as the Sun Prince. That means you must be Lady Moonshine!”

The orc queen laughed, and in the moonlight, her eyes glittered cold and black.

“I’m the Heart of Darkness, silly. And I say that this time, there shall be no release for the Prince of Summertime.”

The elf grinned, and burst spontaneously into drunken song, overcome with sudden festive frivolity.

 

_“Gods-rest you, merry peasantfolk,_

_Let nothing you dismay_

_For mind the Prince of Summertime_

_Was burned on Solstice Day!”_

 

The orc queen pointed to the ground and giggled.

“There’s the witch-house, Leggy. There should be plenty in here to amuse ourselves till the dwarf dries off and the Full Dark arrives.”

She cast her eyes to the sack in the back of the sleigh, and smiled, thinking of her magnificent talent for evil schemes.

“And what a glorious darkness it shall be, Leggy. Burning that dwarf will just be the start! Soon my enemies will all be dead, and I could pile their corpses high enough to make a stairway to heaven – to rip the sun and moon out of the black sky and hurl them down to earth!”

And with a cackle of joyful anticipation, the orc queen landed her horse and began moves to put her wicked plan into action.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is having a good Yule, wherever you are in the world and whatever gods you might hold to! 
> 
> I once heard an interesting wee factoid about this time of year, which seems vaguely appropriate – that up until the advent of the Gregorian calendar in the late 16th century, the old date of the December Solstice used to fall annually a few days later than it does nowadays – it used to be on 25th December. So the apparent boundary between the Winter Solstice and Christmas Day is a relatively modern (and artificial) one – in the entire medieval period these two feasts (and calendar events) were understood to be one and the same thing. So I guess since we’re in pseudo-medieval Middle Earth territory, I’m bringing my Christmas baggage along for the ride here.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is a wee bit later going up than I intended, but I’ve been busy doing festive things with people. So today is my first day back on the laptop, and I’ll hopefully finish this off tomorrow. But as a warning: it’s my national duty as a Scot to go out and get hammered for Hogmanay in 2 days time, so if the last chapter is not out by 31st December, assume I’m just in the pub and it will get finished off when the hangover recedes sometime in early January!

**3.1: Erebor - present day**

The hobbit turned a yellowed page on the storybook, and cleared his throat.

He had already mentally prepared his best scary voice to read the next passage, and was looking forward to Thorin finally hearing the Laketown fable in its entirety.

For all the dwarf king’s bravery on the battlefield, Bilbo knew his friend was sometimes in the habit of checking under the bed before getting in, and that this was exactly the sort of story that would have him jumping at shadows for days on end.

“And on that ancient night, long ago, the bright moon shone down on the glittering snow and her piercing white light caused the eyes of something in the cold, barren earth to open for the first time. Those eyes belonged to a creature whose real name had been long since forgotten – even by his mother. And so the Lady Moonshine gave him another name to summon him to wakefulness. She named him as Old Nick, and in exchange for his name, he offered to serve her and honour her – and see that her will was done on the dead, cold earth.”

But the red-headed girl at his feet was frowning.

“Uncle Bilbo, why did Old Nick forget his own name?”

The hobbit raised a finger in the air and nodded.

“A very good point, Unn. We remember our names very easily, don’t we? But Old Nick had been... er, _asleep_ for a long time before the moonlight woke him. And people can be very forgetful when they have just woken up.”

The little girl shook her head so hard that her red curls bounced on her ears.

“But why did his _mother_ forget his name?”

The dwarf lord interjected, seeing his lover was lost for a response – hobbits didn’t have secret names, after all, and Bilbo still struggled with the concept, even after all his time in Erebor.

“Well, it must be because Old Nick’s mother had named him such a long time ago, and so the name she’d given him was no longer useful to him. She’d had no need to remember it, and so the Lady created a new one for him.”

The girl’s green eyes widened, and the dwarf lord continued in a hurry.

“But don’t worry, Unn – your mother will never forget _your_ secret name. She has a much better memory than Old Nick’s mother, and she needs to remember it too, or else Mahal will be unable to speak to you.”

The little girl seemed appeased enough, and the hobbit continued.

“For after the Lady had named him, Old Nick found that his teeth became longer and sharper, and his fingernails grew into strong curved claws, and with these new gifts he was able to chew and burrow his way from deep inside the dark ground to the surface, where the moonlight exposed the new face of the earth to his gaze. And Old Nick saw that the earth had changed much while he slept, and that he would need assistance if the Lady’s will was to be done truly.”

The hobbit looked around, checking his audience were still listening, and met the grey eyes of the dwarf-lord, as wide and credulous as the younger members of the group.

And satisfied, he turned the page on the book, and was rewarded with a rather grisly image of a corpse chewing its way through a coffin under the clear moonlight.

He winced and held the story-book fully upright, angling it carefully away from more innocent eyes before going on.

“So the Lady called upon the Old Ones who slumbered in the earth’s deathly embrace, and one by one they opened their eyes to her white light and crawled their way to the surface. Under the moonbeams they gathered to hear her commandment, and in the silence of that first Full Dark as the snow drifted in the winds, she told them exactly what they must do to cleanse _evil_ from the world...”

 

________________________________________________________

**3.2: Laketown shore, Solstice morning**

The dark haired dwarf shivered in the stiff breeze, eyeing the wooden cage dubiously.

The little rowing boats had towed the craft back ashore at sunrise to meet the villagers on the jetty, and now here they all stood – tired and half-asleep – all assembled to watch his brother’s release from the wicker cage.

And hopefully – to go back to bed again afterwards.

Kili had spent the whole Solstice Eve feast talking to Sigrid, and drinking more ale than he cared to think about. There had been precious little time for sleep – not when they had so much to plan, and discuss. They hadn’t yet announced their engagement – or acted upon it – but the day was just dawning and would no doubt prove to be a memorable one.

And Kili couldn’t wait to tell his brother the good news.

Or to put his arms around the blonde dwarf and make sure he understood just how much he was still wanted and loved after everything that had happened. Mahal knew, he would need some warming up right now.

A single kiss from Sigrid in her ritual role was unlikely to be enough.

Kili watched as the bright eyed young woman stepped forward, attired again in the ceremonial white garb of Lady Moonshine, and at the High Priestesses’ nod, she began to address the crowd.

“It was with a heavy heart that I hid my face in darkness. And while I have banished the Sun Prince to the watery prison of night, it has not only been my sister’s children who have suffered from his loss. All creatures of light and heat feel his absence, and for them I have decided to be merciful. I shall set free our beautiful Sun Prince, for I too love him and cannot bear to shine without his warmth and light.”

The woman smiled to the whole crowd, and gestured to the door on the wicker cage – still tied with her white ribbon.

“Therefore I decree that the Sun Prince is returned, and his light shall never be dimmed.”

With a deft motion, she untied the ribbon, and let the door swing open.

But nobody was waiting within the darkness.

And still smiling, the young woman glanced inside the cage to summon her friend to their ritual embrace.

But the smile died on her lips.

“Fili?”

Kili felt the wind blow on the back of his neck, and a faint fluttering of disquiet stirred in his chest.

And without thinking, he stepped forward and joined the two women on the jetty, making his way to the cage to see what was wrong with his brother.

Sigrid saw his approach, and addressed him at once.

“He’s not in there.”

The High Priestess was frowning, and marched straight up to the dark mouth of the cage, checking for herself.

“The dwarf is missing.”

She turned to the young woman and gestured in annoyance.

“You did tell him to stay in here _all_ night, didn’t you?”

Sigrid stared at the cage door.

“Yes, of course.”

The High Priestess eyed Kili suspiciously.

“I don’t suppose you have any idea of your brother’s whereabouts?”

The dark haired dwarf stepped quickly to the wicker cage, and peered around.

But Sigrid was right – there was nobody inside. And nothing to see. Just some sleeping furs strewn around on the floor of the chamber, in a messy heap.

There was no sign of Fili.

The unease he felt deepened – and a spark of irritation flickered into life.

He shook his head at the High Priestess.

“As far as I know, my brother should be here. And he isn’t. That’s as much of a surprise to me as it is to you, your highness.”

The crowd were beginning to mutter, with hostile glances being cast towards those on the jetty.

And the High Priestess seemed angry herself.

“In all my years, I’ve never heard of someone spoiling the re-enactment like this. This is an ill omen, insulting our gods on Solstice morning...”

The young woman was staring mournfully at her priestess.

“Maybe it’s a trick, Mother? A Sancta Claws prank?”

The High Priestess shook her head.

“Sancta Claws answers to the Lady and would make no mockery of this. This oversteps the mark of what is acceptable trickery by some way, although perhaps a dwarf cannot understand the difference. Perhaps it was foolish to think our neighbours could be trusted with respecting our traditions at all!”

Kili felt his cheeks redden, and turned to face the crowd.

There were a few angry faces staring back, and a silence enveloped the lakeside as they all waited for him to explain where his kinsman was.

“Friends, listen to me! My brother would never knowingly insult your beliefs like this. He knows how important this ritual is to you all, he wouldn’t have volunteered to help you if he didn’t respect you!”

The High Priestess stared back at him, her jaw set angrily.

“Then where is he, Kili? Did one of your kind row out to him during the night? And take him back to Erebor?”

The dwarf shook his head, wishing he had some kind of explanation to offer.

“No, I’m sure of it. Hardly anyone in Erebor even knows we were involved with this. And even if they did find out, he never would have left with them.”

He stared at the crowd, unsure how to impress upon them the impossibility of the accusations they were silently levelling at his brother.

“Fili takes responsibilities seriously. He would never let you down like this.”

There was a cold silence as the villagers stared back, and Kili realised they were far from convinced.

He shook his head, trying to think.

“Maybe it is a Sancta trick – I can’t imagine how it could be anything else.”

He stared back at the High Priestess, suddenly indignant.

“Maybe someone from Laketown rowed out to him in the night, and persuaded him to come back with them.”

Kili blinked, realising that this was the only possible explanation of events.

The High Priestess turned her attention back to the crowd.

“My friends, do not despair. We can complete this ritual when the dwarf appears – it doesn’t have to be done right now. Perhaps his brother here is correct, and there has been a misunderstanding on his part. Let’s not jump to any conclusions before he has had a chance to explain himself. And let’s proceed with our festivities as normal, and look forward to the Full Dark feast tonight.”

The crowd mumbled and considered, and Kili watched as those on the periphery began to turn and start back on the road to Laketown.

They still blamed his brother, it was obvious.

And Kili met the eyes of the High Priestess, and forced a confidence into his voice that he did not feel.

“My brother will have a good explanation for this, you can count on it. I swear it on my family’s honour, before Mahal’s own judgement of us.”

The priestess nodded.

“I believe your sincerity, Kili. And I hope you are right. The people of Laketown are just beginning to trust your people again, and accept your friendship.”

She watched the young woman sidle up to Kili on the jetty, taking his hand without a word.

“It could also make certain political alliances unpopular just now. So for your own sake, I hope your brother does have a good explanation.”

And with a hand on her swelling stomach, the priestess turned her back on the young pair and followed the rest of the crowd back towards the town.

“Where’s your brother, Kili? Where can he be?”

The young woman was upset, and the dwarf squeezed her hand, meeting her blue eyes with his own confusion.

“I don’t know, Sig. I really don’t. This isn’t like him at all.”

He stared back at the wicker cage, shaking his head.

“I think the only thing that makes sense is what you said. It must be some kind of Sancta Claws prank. Someone from Laketown must have convinced him to leave last night.”

He thought for a second.

“Maybe someone wanted to cause trouble for us, and thought that this would be a good opportunity.”

The young woman frowned, thinking through the implications.

“Maybe. But Fili’s not an idiot – he knew he was supposed to stay here. Whatever could have made him leave?”

The dark haired dwarf shook his head. Her words only reinforced the nagging doubt he felt, in his own heart.

“I don’t know, Sig.”

His voice was a whisper, almost lost on the cold wind that blew from the lake, bitterly chilly under the clear, bright morning sunshine.

He squeezed her hand.

“Let’s go back to the village and see if anyone knows what’s happened. Maybe he’s waiting for us already, and this mess will be cleared up before we know it.”

The young woman eyed him doubtfully, and nodded.

“Alright, just give me a minute. I want to take a look inside the cage.”

The dwarf followed the woman back towards the dark, shadowy doorway, and stepped onto the floating wicker dome, hard on her heels.

But as soon as he was inside the door, she pulled him close and kissed him hungrily.

He kissed her back, nearly losing his balance as the cage shifted on the water.

“Sig, I’m sorry. I don’t know what he’s doing. I know he wouldn’t – ”

She silenced him with another kiss, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pinning him to the spot.

“I know.”

She released him with reluctance.

“I’m worried about him, Kili. What if something has happened to him?”

And at her words, the dwarf felt the fear in the pit of his stomach return.

What if she was right – and his brother was in trouble? What could he do to help him, when he didn’t even know where he was?

Kili punched the side of the cage in frustration, and sent the wicker raft tilting in the water again.

“Let’s go to the town and speak to people, Sig. Someone there must know where he is. Someone might be holding him hostage for some stupid prank.”

The young woman shook her head.

“If someone was holding him hostage, that’s more than just a _prank_ , Kili. Your brother is a prince. He’s the named heir to your uncle’s kingdom. Holding him prisoner would be a capital offense – and an act of war! I can’t believe anyone in Laketown would be so stupid, just for a Sancta Claws trick.”

The dwarf shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

“It’s the only thing that makes any sense, Sig. Let’s go and check.”

The young woman’s eyes were wide.

“Okay, just a second.”

And before he could question her further, the young woman took out a small white-handled knife from her dress pocket, and cut out a section of a hazel twig from the wicker cage.

The dwarf raised his eyebrows as she stowed it in her pocket. He doubted she wanted it just for a keepsake, but he’d had enough of the Laketown superstitions for one day, and it was only early morning time.

“Come on, Sig. Let’s go.”

And with a nod, the young woman took his hand, and the two of them stepped off the swaying cage, leaving it lost in shadow, bobbing around on the water, alone and abandoned.

And up and down the shoreline, the people began their search.

 

__________________________________________________

**3.3: The witchhouse, Solstice morning**

 

The sunlight flickered through tall fir trees, low and yellow, stirring the blonde dwarf into dim awareness of the breaking day around him.

“Look, Leggy – he’s awake!”

And at the screeching howl of the she-orc’s voice, the dwarf prince jolted back to life, and felt the sting of ropes cutting into his wrists.

He was held fast, his hands and ankles tied together behind his back, leaving little room for movement.

And a horribly familiar feeling of panic enveloped his chest.

He blinked, and tried to make sense of the crazy scene before him.

For this was no orc dungeon – he appeared to be in a cosy kitchen, lying on his side on a little wooden table beside a lit stove – he could feel its gentle warmth on his hands and back.

There were ceramic plates with pretty rustic depictions hanging in a wooden cupboard in the corner, and some potted plants on the windowsill – along with one curiously large metal cauldron in a corner of the room. By his own reckoning it looked big enough to boil a dwarf in.

And neither was he alone.

There was a tall and muscular elf, silver haired and naked, bound by his wrists to a sturdy trellis that bordered the kitchen.

Fili’s eyes were drawn in morbid distaste to the metal cock cage attached to the elf’s penis, and he stifled a shudder.

But despite the bloody welts and smears of white powder that lined the elf’s torso, the other prisoner was staring with an open mouth and an idiot’s gaze, giggling softly as the orc-witch prowled the ceramic tiles in her high-heeled boots.

The dwarf prince tried his best to nod at her approach with courtesy.

“Merry Solstice, Queen Sulga. I _would_ say it was good to see you – but I seem to be your captive again. What do you want with me this time?”

The she-orc grinned and huffed a line of the powder from the bound elf’s greasy chest.

“Don’t start your pish with me, dwarf! With your smart mouth and your stuck-up sneer. Yes, you’re my prisoner again. For now. I see you have fared well in my absence.”

The dwarf nodded as best he could.

“I admit, I was faring better _before_ I ran into you again.”

Her black eyes glittered in the rosy glow of the sunrise and she directed a sour glance his way.

“I don’t doubt it, _dwarf_. Now tell me. How fares your brother? Does he ever mention me? Does he talk about... our time _together?”_

The dwarf tried to sound amenable.

“Kili is well, Sulga. He doesn’t speak about our time in... your _place_. But I heard you helped us escape. I was grateful to you... so what do you want with me now?”

The she-orc said nothing, striding over to a alarmed-hourglass that sat on the kitchen counter. And with a flourish, she tipped several of the sand-bulbs over and set the timer running on the bell.

The blonde dwarf stared at her, watching with rising alarm as she finished her intricate task and staggered towards him, breathing a trail of alcoholic vapour in his face.

She reached out her hand to him – and he flinched, thinking she would strike him. But instead, she stroked at his hair.

“You see that clock ticking, Fili? That’s how much time you have left.”

She gave a sharp cackle, and the elf on the table smiled back in mindless amusement.

He swallowed, trying to ignore the threat in her words.

“Time left for what, Sulga? What do you want me to do?”

She tousled his hair playfully, and flashed him a drunken leer.

“You know Fili, you are attractive. Not as attractive as your brother, obviously – but you’re almost as good looking as the average man.”

She grinned at him, and took a sip from a hip flask.

“Such a shame to see your pretty face go up in flames – like casting pearls before swine – but the Saltmarsh whores must have their trinkets after all.”

The blonde dwarf tried to keep his voice neutral, knowing she was still trying to goad him.

“I don’t understand you, Sulga. You’re not making any sense. If you tell me what you want,” – he offered her a very reasonable-looking smile – “then maybe I can help you get it, and we can all be happy.”

But at this the orc witch howled with laughter.

“All be _happy!_ Tell you what, Fili – I’ll be happy. Me and old Leggy here will be full of festive jubilation when they light you up in Saltmarsh!”

He stared at her, still not understanding – and coming to the rapid conclusion that he might be better off in blissful ignorance.

“What do mean, Sulga? Tell me what you want.”

He heard the tightness in his voice, and realised he was still afraid of her.

He’d always been afraid of her.

Her voice alone was a reminder of his nightmares.

She was mad – and cruel. And just like before, he was powerless to defend himself against her. Unarmed, and weaponless.

She grinned nastily, enjoying his discomfort.

“I’m taking you to Saltmarsh, Fili. We’ll leave when that bell strikes sundown. And when we get there, you’re going to be _burned_ as the villagers’ Solstice sacrifice.”

He felt his breathing stop.

“That’s right, Fili. In a few hours, once that sun is set, we’ll fly back to the town and chain you to the Solstice tree. And then at midnight, we’ll light you up like a festive candle!”

He stared at her, realising she was actually serious.

“But why, Sulga? Why would you do such a dreadful thing?”

He heard the horror in his whispered voice, and struggled to regain control.

“You sound like you’re drunk, Sulga. Take some time and sober up, and don’t do anything rash. You remember who my uncle is, don’t you? Think what trouble you’ll bring down on yourself and all those villagers if you go through with this!”

She leaned over to him, and he smelled the sour booze on her breath.

“If I were you I would think what’s coming _your_ way, dwarf. You’ll burn up slowly, I’ll see to that. I’m a ordinate of the Red Lodge, you know. I can make a good burning last all night.”

The dwarf took a deep breath, aware of his heart pounding, and the gaping chasm of panic that was threatening to engulf him. But he couldn’t allow himself to lose his mind in the madness just yet – he needed to think, and stay focused.

There must be some way to get out of this. He’d escaped her before, after all. And maybe the other prisoner could help him – maybe they could help each other.

From across the room, the elf was frowning over at him.

“Who’s his uncle, Sulga? Is it anyone I know?”

The dwarf stared at him, recognition coming to him at last.

It was Legolas of the Woodland realm! The son and heir of King Thranduil.

What in Mahal’s name was a high-born elf-prince doing stripped naked and smeared with suspicious white powder in the company of the orc witch, bound on some spinster’s kitchen trellis on a Solstice morning?

King Thranduil would be most _unamused._

The she-orc cackled in response.

“Anyone you know? Are you in the habit of fraternising with your enemy, Leggy? Who cares who his uncle is? Some fat, ugly dwarf no doubt – same as all the rest of them.”

Fili saw confusion creep across the elf’s face, and tried to catch the icy blue eyes.

“No, Legolas – you do know my uncle! His name is – ”

But before he could finish, she’d wrapped her hand across his mouth, and was stuffing in a large lump of coal from the stove behind him, gagging him.

He tried to cough and shake the sooty lump free, but it was too big.

“That’s it, my little friend. Save your voice. You will need it for screaming with later. And now...”

The orc-witch turned her attention back onto her tethered friend, and skipped across the room to the dribbling elf prince.

She lifted her skirt.

And her hands fiddled with the cock cage.

“Now, it’s time my friend had his _Solstice present_.”

And as their noisy rutting began, the blonde dwarf could only close his eyes and wish that when he next opened them, he would be somewhere else – anywhere but here – and it would all turn out to be nothing more than an exceptionally bad dream brought on by some of Bofur’s dodgy whisky.

______________________________________________________

**3.4: Erebor, noon, Solstice Day**

 

The young woman took a bite of the cold mince pie and regarded the scene thoughtfully. Even without being able to speak any Khuzdul, it was not hard to guess what the dwarf king was saying.

His face told a story all unto itself.

And right now, his main plot thread seemed to be _anger_.

But that wasn’t so unusual for a dwarf like Thorin, after all.

It was his keynote emotion, and she’d seen him angry more times than she could count, even in the short number of years since the dwarves had been back in Erebor.

But this time, she could see from the nervous waving in his hands that he was frightened too – his hands kept reaching for his sword handle, even though he wasn’t wearing the scabbard. Even though he was in his meeting hall, surrounded by friends and loved ones, safe from all immediate danger.

He was worried for sure. Worried about his nephews, as always.

And she reckoned that this time he had good reason to be.

Kili was doing his best to calm his uncle – and even in this foreign dwarvish tongue, he still sounded charming and sincere.

His brown eyes – those were his best feature, she’d always thought – were warm and liquid and pleading with his uncle. His voice was soft and firm. There was a grace in his movements that was almost feminine, and as she bit off another piece of pastry crust she was struck again by how captivating he was to look at.

How beautiful.

Just like his brother.

And he was so nearly hers now. She’d loved him since she’d been a child. She’d loved them _both_ since she’d been a child.

And all she’d ever wanted was for them to be safe, and happy – so she could carry on watching them being beautiful and captivating all day long. She didn’t really care who they both belonged to, as long as they were free and happy.

She finished the mince pie, and washed it down with a swig of spiced tea.

And one of her hands reached over to the plate for a second helping.

While the other hand reached into her pocket.

For in her pocket there was something that might help.

She watched the others in the room – her beautiful, beloved Kili, his raging uncle Thorin, the little hobbit Bilbo – watched them busy with their argument and their chatter. And while they spoke and gestured and didn’t see her, she took her white-rimmed knife from her pocket and stabbed it into the wooden token.

The small wooden token she’d cut from the Sun Prince’s watery cage.

And with a half smile on her face, she carved a circle into the hazelwood – then scored it in half, then half again, and then half once more – so that the eight-spoked wheel she drew stared out vividly.

The wheel of the year.

A rune for fortune. For justice.

The rune for retribution.

And as her friends carried on with their noisy argument, the young woman stepped towards the fireplace in the corner and cast the token into the flame.

And by the time she’d sat back down to finish her lunch none of the others in the room had even noticed her move.

And she carried on eating, and drinking her tea, and watching her friends as they spoke in their foreign tongue, heedless of the roar and crackle of the fire as it told her listening ears everything she needed to know.

_________________________________________________

**3.5: The witchhouse, sundown, Solstice Day**

 

With a start, the dwarf was jolted back to consciousness.

He was dimly aware that something must have stirred him, and for a second he scanned the darkening kitchen, trying in vain to assess what was different about the outlandish scene within the mawkish cottage.

The young elf prince was still tied to the kitchen trellis, his chest heaving with the rhythmic breath of someone deeply asleep. And glinting in the sputtering candlelight, a solitary trail of drool dribbled down his hairless chin.

The orc queen snored upon the pretty patterned tiles where she’d fallen beside her friend, her silver hip flask still in one hand. The lid had not been closed properly, and some of the black, sticky contents had leaked out in a puddle around her on the floor.

In fact, Fili could see that if she’d chosen that moment to wake – and relight the half-smoked weed cone in her other hand – the whole cottage might very well go up in flames.

The air was reeking with the stale scent of alcohol and burnt herbs.

They’d had something of a party, he remembered that. She’d even forced the cone into his mouth to suck on a few times, to get him into the ‘festive spirit’ before his ritual execution. She’d gloated that she’d light up a ‘fat one’ from his funeral pyre, and if her wood damping skills were still sound, he might even get to watch her smoke it while he burned.

But the pair of them had passed out not long after dawn, and ever since then Fili had been trying to free himself from his open cell in the smouldering oven doorway.

Shaking his head, he scanned around again, the fear nagging in his stomach as he tried to loosen the ties on his wrists. No matter how much he tried to focus and relax, and follow what he’d been taught a million times as a youth, these bindings were not loosening.

Not even an inch.

And time was growing short.

He stared out of the windows, realising with a shudder that the sun was gone – although the traces of its recent fall still streaked red through the south-western sky.

And higher up, just rising in the east, he could see an almost-full moon was creeping its way past the trees.

Soon it would outshine what was left of the sun, and night would be truly here.

Soon the alarm would sound, and wake his two companions in the kitchen.

And then he would be in trouble.

Unless he could work these bonds loose and escape while he still had the chance...

Fili closed his eyes and stilled his trembling.

And in the fading light he tried to wriggle his wrist free from the rope once again – sure he was taking off a layer of skin in the process. But that was alright – he knew blood was a good lubricant, and maybe with a bit of luck it would give him some purchase against the ropes...

The orc queen stopped snoring and twitched, and Fili felt his muscles tense in an instant, undoing his good work and setting him back to the start.

He wanted to swear out loud, but bit his tongue.

The orc witch might be on the verge of waking just now, and he needed to stay absolutely still where he lay in the oven doorway.

The seconds went by.

Followed by minutes.

And even after all the time had passed, the dwarf felt his body was still tense, and his breathing still sharp.

For the room was darker now.

The night had come in while he waited.

And now when he turned his eyes to the windows, to see the red streaks had turned to grey, and the friend of the night was glowing brighter than ever, smiling down on the kitchen scene from her airy throne high in the heavens.

Fili shivered, and felt his eyes drifting to the alarmed hourglass. Not long now surely.

He was almost out of time.

And maybe he wasn’t going to make it.

There was no way he could shake off these bonds before nightfall – he’d made no progress after nigh on five hours, and now he had just minutes left!

He closed his eyes, feeling himself on the verge of panic, and knew full well if he lost it now, he was truly lost.

He pictured his brother’s face, and felt himself grab at whatever was left of his resolution – to stay calm, and stay focused.

He just had to concentrate harder – _harder!_

And in his mind’s eye, he saw the lovely face of Bard’s daughter.

He opened his eyes again, and realised there were tears on his face.

Tears for his friends he would never see again.

He stared at the bright moon, and through his blurred vision the friend of the night’s shadow face seemed to merge with that of Bard’s daughter. And for one beautiful burst of white radiant light she was the Queen of Night – or her own Lady Moonshine – smiling down on him, seeing his plight and laughing joyfully anyway.

“Sig?”

He heard his voice whispering, and blinked a few times.

The beautiful vision disappeared in an instant, and no amount of blinking brought her back.

“Sig!”

He felt blackness envelop him, as all thoughts of his friends departed in a heartbeat.

And the only company he had left began to stir and shift now the darkness had fallen.

“Oh, _shit.”_

He frowned at the orc queen, scrutinising her movements again – but something unexpected caught his eye instead.

He heard a horse shriek outside.

And he noticed that there was something moving.

Out in the clearing. Under the trees.

Out where the snows lay thick and frozen, shining white like old bones now the moon had cleared the forest and left them exposed.

And it was something his eyes couldn’t recognise.

The snows were _moving._

Something was dragging them, something under the ground – something unseen was coming to the doorway of the cottage.

He felt himself tremble once more, sure that this time, his eyes _must_ be deceiving him – but there was a light under the doorway.

Brilliant and fierce enough to cast shadows around the kitchen where the three living creatures lay motionless.

And Fili shut his eyes against the invading, piercing brightness until it grew dim again.

And hesitantly, he opened them a crack. He was scared to look, he realised. But more scared of not looking.

And so he looked – and saw it.

There was something standing in the doorway.

Something small, and old, and _stunted._

Something dead – but moving with a strange intensity – and an animated face of crumbling bone and brown teeth that made the grey centuries seem young.

_“Hello there, Fili. How do you do?”_

The thing didn’t move it’s lips (Fili wasn’t sure but it looked like there were _no lips_ ), but inside his head he heard it speak anyway.

And suddenly it was coming closer to him, shuffling on blurred little legs that pattered on the pretty patterned tiles – coming closer with its sharply clawed fingers outstretched...

He felt the urge to scream rising up in his throat, as the thing came closer –

_“Fili!”_

The thing stopped and shook its head at him.

It seemed annoyed.

It put a finger to its former lips.

_“Shhh!”_

And with one deft grabbing lunge, the thing had its claws upon him, and was slicing at the bindings on his wrists – cutting them expertly, so as not even a nick of his skin was hurt by the grubby brown talons.

The thing finished its work, and stood motionless before him.

Realising he was free, Fili sat up.

He felt an overpowering urge to run away – there was something horribly uncanny about the thing’s face that set his animal blood running colder even to look at it – but he was curious too.

It seemed to have saved him.

“What... I mean, _who_ are you?”

But the creature made no reply to his whispered question, and seemed to be making towards the sleeping elf on the trellis.

_“Run away, Fili. No time to dawdle, now. Run away like a good boy, and pray to Our Lady that you won’t see me again in a hurry.”_

The dwarf chose to heed the thing’s words – and leapt to the kitchen floor.

He stumbled towards the only path of escape.

Past the sleeping witch upon the floor – and he tried not to look at the _thing_ as he passed it, even though it had cut the wakening elf free from the trellis, for it was coming his way again now...

And as he opened the doorway to the clearing outside, he caught a glimpse of it bowing down before the orc queen.

Lapping at the sticky puddle around her head, with something that must have once been a tongue.

He bolted out of the door, and ran to the clearing.

And Mahal, the air was cold.

It felt good.

He was alive.

“Hey, wait for me!”

It was the elf-king’s son, calling to him.

And against his better nature, Fili turned and stopped.

The fool was running blindly from the cottage, half clad in a hastily-grabbed Sancta Claws robe.

“I know who you are! I know who your uncle is!”

The elf came charging up to him, and pointed towards the cottage.

“She’s gone crazy, I swear it! She wants to burn you. She wants to burn us both! I didn’t know who you were when I saw you before. But now I do!”

Fili shook his head.

“So it’s okay to burn me alive if I’m a commoner?”

The elf’s face dropped, and he shook his head.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He stared at the snowy ground, embarrassed.

“She’s crazy. She’s always been crazy, but this...”

Fili shrugged, his impatience only growing.

“Just forget it, Legolas. We need to get away from here before she wakes up. I’m going to run, as fast as I can, back to my home – and I suggest you do the same!”

The elf stared with wide eyes round the clearing. His eyes lingered on the black horse, chewing its way through the rope that tethered it to a fir tree. It seemed to be in a state of some agitation, and unlikely to be well-disposed to either of them.

“Agreed then, dwarf. Let us not speak of this again. My father – will be most _unamused._ Let’s just get out of here.”

And without another word, the pair ran in opposite directions through the frozen clearing, as fast as they both could.

And silently, a cloud covered the face of the moon, and nothing more stirred beneath the snows or in the darkened cottage.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes a turn for the graphically smutty, so if you're not into that then feel free to skip ahead. I'm going to post up one more chapter after this one too, to tie up all loose ends and write the actual ending, so there is a wee bit more to come as well.
> 
> [I don't know why but I'm so bad at concluding endings, they always without fail seem to take like twice as long as I budget for! :/]

**3.6: Erebor great hall, Solstice evening**

The moonlight shone down through the window of the polished stone hall, reflecting off the hundreds of silver goblets and crystal glasses studding the long feast table.

Most of the folk who’d been invited were already tucking in to the food – the Laketown officials had had enough of waiting for Kili’s brother to appear, and were tired and hungry from their search through the snowy shoreline.

And despite their assurances that they held no enmity against the dwarves in general, or his brother in particular, Kili was unconvinced. He saw their surly faces, and it worried him – almost as much as Fili’s whereabouts worried him.

His uncle meanwhile was on-edge and grumpy, and seemed to think he was the butt of some unpleasant kind of joke – although who the perpetrators were, no one could say. So Thorin behaved as if it were the world at large that was responsible, and nothing Kili, Bilbo, or any of the other dwarf lords could do would improve his mood.

Whatever else was going on however, it was clear to Kili that his brother’s disappearance had nothing to do with the Laketown contingent, who were talking in hushed voices among themselves and avoiding all contact with the Erebor dwarves – sat on the opposite end of the long table. They seemed just as angry and upset as his own people.

In fact, Kili suspected the townsmen would leave after the food was eaten, and rejoin the rest of the villagers in the Laketown temple for the party. And while Sigrid still lingered at his side by the fireplace – where they could avoid both sets of angry relatives, he could hardly expect her to stay with him and give up the rest of her revelry to help in the useless search for his brother.

He took a sip of his ale, glumness writ large on his brow, and looked up in surprise as the woman squeezed his arm.

“I’m sure your brother will be back soon, Kili. And I’m not leaving your side until he’s here.”

The dwarf shook his head, his reverie broken.

“No, Sig. You don’t have to do that. You should go and have some fun with your friends. Enjoy what’s left of the night. You’ve helped enough for today.”

But the woman smiled back, her eyes sparkling in the firelight.

“You’re my friend, Kili. And so is Fili. I want to stay and help you.”

She smiled sensually, and squeezed his hand once more.

“I’m sure you will _need_ some help.”

Kili stared back, unsure what the woman was suggesting.

“I will if my uncle’s mood doesn’t improve, that’s for sure. Oh Sig, where in Mahal’s name could he _be_?”

But the woman’s eyes still sparkled, staring into the crackling fire.

“You’ll see soon, Kili.”

And at her whispered promise, from the gates far below the main hall, a trumpet sounded in answering alarm.

The room fell silent, and the guests around the table exchanged nervous glances – while at the head of the table, the dwarf king rose.

Kili met his uncle’s gaze, and the unspoken question was shared in their glance.

They had some news now – for good.

Or for ill.

And as he held his breath, there was a pattering of feet on the steps outside the hall, and without even knocking, one of the dwarvish servants burst through the door.

“My lords, come quick – your nephew, we’ve found him!”

Kili felt the breath catch in his throat, and saw from his uncle’s face that the same thought was occurring to him.

The messenger didn’t sound happy – and what could that mean for Fili? Was he hurt?

Or worse?

And the guard seemed to understand the sudden anxiety on Thorin’s expression, for he shook his head hurriedly.

“Prince Fili – he’s alive, my lord. He’s fine. He’s – ”

The sound of familiar footsteps on the stairs outside reached Kili’s ears, and he dropped the woman’s arm at the fireplace.

He ran to the doorway, just in time to see his brother reach the top of the steps, wet and bedraggled, still clad in the soaking yellow tunic from the Solstice Eve landing party.

His uncle’s voice echoed through the room.

“Fili! What in Mahal’s name has happened to you?”

But Kili had no time for words.

He ran to his brother, heedless of the rest of them, and threw his arms around the freezing dwarf.

Even in the warm and dimly lit room, the blonde was visibly shivering.

Kili met his brother’s eyes, and saw the light was still there – saw his brother was unharmed, uninjured – still himself. Just wet, and cold.

And the relief surged through his veins in a flash.

He pulled the blonde closer, wrapping his arms tightly around his back and resting his head on his brother’s damp shoulder – embracing him all too intimately for the crowded room.

“Where have you been, Fili? I was worried sick.”

He felt his brother stiffen at his embrace, and saw the fear flash in those blue eyes.

And without thinking, Kili kissed his brother’s lips – just for an instant. Enough to feel the tickle of Fili’s braided moustache, and smell the familiar scent on his breath, reassuring and alluring.

Before the other dwarf pulled away.

“Not here, _brother_. Everyone is watching.”

The brunette dropped the blonde, and turned on his heels to look.

All eyes were on the pair of them – from Bard, watching without any emotion from one end of the long table – to their uncle, regarding the two of them with frowning bewilderment.

And from the fireplace, he heard a young woman laughing softly.

She stepped over to them, and extended her hands.

“My friends – old and new, see our Sun Prince has returned as promised! I knew he would not let us down.”

She put her hands on the blonde dwarf’s shoulders, and lowered her head to kiss him.

And despite the assembled crowd and the pounding of blood in his ears, Kili found he couldn’t tear his eyes away as Sigrid proceeded to kiss his brother with a tenderness that made his breath quicken.

He didn’t know if it was jealousy.

Or perhaps something else.

At the far end of the table, the Laketown guests began to clap, and Kili broke his gaze away from the embracing pair as the High Priestess spoke to address the room.

“The ritual is concluded at last, my dear friends. Our Sun Prince is back, as the Lady Moonshine has commanded.”

She raised an eyebrow at the ritual participants, still kissing in the doorway.

“You may release your Sun Prince now, Sigrid. He needs his mouth back to do some explaining for us.”

Kili saw the woman finally let go of his brother, and the dwarf struggle to compose himself.

And Sigrid must have observed the same effect she’d had, for she took his brother’s hands in her own, and led him gently to the fireplace.

“Come here where it’s warm, Fili. And then you can tell us _all about_ your travels.”

Her eyes flicked back to Kili.

“Fetch your brother a cup of wine, my love. I think he’s rather going to need it.”

The brunette dwarf nodded, and retreated to the table at her command.

His uncle held out a goblet, his expression softening.

“Your brother is frozen, Kili. Once he’s done explaining, see to it he is bathed and dressed in something warm. I don’t want my own flesh and blood shivering in our hall like a wet dog.”

The brunette nodded, and returned to the fireplace, offering the silver goblet to his brother.

The blonde took it, and drank deeply from the cup. He shook his head, searching the eyes of the crowd around the table.

“My lords and ladies, where do you want me to start?”

Kili saw the weariness on his brother’s face, and even as his long and detailed explanation began, he found himself drawing closer to the blonde, trying to shield him from the accusing eyes of the High Priestess and the sightless townspeople.

They couldn’t see his brother’s distress, and discomfort, but Kili could.

And he was perhaps not the only one.

For on Fili’s other side, Sigrid was standing nearer to him too – her arm was around his waist, in front of the whole room, and her eyes smiled serenely back at their uncle and friends, regardless of their questioning glances.

And as Kili listened, he felt his blood run cold.

The orc witch still lived.

And she _still_ wanted them dead – even after all these years.

She’d tried to kill his brother, and only the elf prince’s quick thinking had saved them both from her wicked scheme – according to Fili’s testimony, anyway. But Kili could hear the lie in his brother’s words, even if the rest of them nodded and began to smile with newfound sympathy at the dishevelled dwarf.

“And so, I apologise for missing your ritual, all of you. I’m sorry for worrying you all, and causing you any ill fortune. May your gods... have _sympathy_.”

Kili saw his brother stare down at the floor, as his voice trailed off in thought.

The blonde was still shivering, and seemed exhausted now his story had been told.

The brunette cleared his throat.

“Friends, with your leave, I will attend to my brother. He is cold, and in no fit state to address you further, now you understand his troubles.”

The High Priestess smiled at them both.

“Certainly, friends. You have no need to stay on our account. By all means, dry and warm your brother. The Solstice feast will be waiting for you both when you return.”

Kili put a hand on Fili’s shoulder.

“Let’s go, brother.”

The young woman smiled at them both.

“Let me help you, friends. Let me run his bath while you attend him, Kili.”

The brunette dwarf stared at the woman in surprise, and watched the faces of his dwarvish clansmen crease in confusion as the three of them started off together, with Fili in the middle.

What the young woman was proposing was highly irregular – but none of her own people seemed remotely surprised. And as they made their way to the door, Kili was sure he saw Bard nodding faintly at their exit, a wry smile on the man’s thin lips.

And once they were all out in the stairwell, he tried to express his doubts.

“Sig, it might be best if you join us later, you know? I don’t want my uncle... getting the wrong idea about this.”

But the woman just laughed merrily.

“Oh Kili, you worry so much! What is _the wrong idea_ about this?”

And the brunette was lost for words, watching the way the young woman’s hand rested on his brother’s back, and feeling a sudden spark of jealousy – aimed at both of them, or neither of them.

He let the way into Fili’s quarters, seeing no need to hide his familiarity with the living space now, and was grateful that the servants had already lit the candles in the corners of the room, with a hearty fire in the grate beside the washroom.

He pointed to the ensuite salon.

“There’s a bath tub in there, Sigrid. If you want to – ”

But the woman was whispering something into Fili’s ear in front of the fireplace, and the dwarf was shaking his head.

“How do you know all this, my lady? How – ”

And Kili stared in fascination, as the woman put her lips to his brother’s mouth, and kissed him softly, with her arms around his waist.

“Sig, are you – ”

But Kili realised he didn’t even know what he wanted to say, and stood there hypnotised, watching as the beautiful woman cradled his beloved brother in front of the warm fireglow.

And after what felt like an indecent amount of time, Fili took a deep breath, and straightened, as if summoning his remaining strength to fight her embrace.

“My lady, I’m sorry. You know I have feelings for you. But so does my brother – and I _saw_ you with him. I don’t want to... ”

Kili shook his head, not wanting the pair of them to stop.

It was enticing, this.

He could see his brother was torn between his desire for Sigrid, and his loyalty for him – and suddenly, Kili didn’t want to see his brother fight his emotions any more.

_He_ didn’t want to fight his emotions any more.

And Sigrid obviously didn’t care to choose between them.

She saw his face, and smiled at him, understanding sparkling in her eyes as she studied his gaze.

“Kili, help me take his wet clothes off. It’s going to take the two of us to warm him up, I think.”

And at her bidding, he stepped forward, and placed a hand on his brother’s chest.

“I think you should listen to my lady, Fili. She knows what she’s doing.”

He saw the doubt again in his brother’s blue eyes, and knew the words were wasted in explanation.

There was only one way to explain to Fili what was right.

And as he stepped forward, Sigrid moved out of his way and took up position at his brother’s back, her arms working at the fastenings on his tunic.

“Kili, what do you mean? She’s your – ”

But Fili’s eyes closed and his mouth stopped talking as he felt both sets of hands upon his body, offering him something more studied than gentle affection.

And Kili was filled with a newfound exhilaration – as he finally pressed his lips against his brother’s, and kissed him with all the passion he’d held within him for days now. All the emotion, all the worry – all the longing, expressed in a desperate kiss, that his brother returned as helplessly as he was given it.

Kili felt his brother’s breath coming harder, and broke off to give him some air.

“Kili, Sigrid – what are you doing?”

His brother sounded distressed, and Kili understood his hesitation to let go. Fili always found something to worry about – some silly reason why he had to deny himself and do his boring duty to whatever he’d been told was right.

But Kili wasn’t going to let him deny himself tonight. Not when the three of them all wanted this.

He stepped back as Fili closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath, and watched as Sigrid lifted the tunic over his brother’s face, and dropped it onto the floor with a grin.

And with only the damp linens left to cover his brother’s body, Kili could see the blonde’s response to what they were giving him too.

The blue eyes opened, and Kili saw the turmoil in his brother’s mind.

He stepped closer, and put his hands to Fili’s face.

“We all want this, Fili. We want you, both of us. And you want us too. What’s so _wrong_ with any of that?”

The woman reached her arms round Fili’s chest, and kissed the top of his shoulders.

“I love you _both_. And you both love me. And each other.”

She laughed gently, and whispered in Fili’s ear.

“You want to be together with him. I understand. But you want a woman too. You don’t have to choose, Fili. Not tonight.”

The blonde closed his eyes, and shuddered.

“But what about tomorrow, Sig? When you go back to him, and all I have are memories of this, what do I do then? This isn’t a game, please – don’t play with me like this. Either of you.”

Kili smiled. His brother was so predictable.

“Who says it has to be just for tonight, Fi? We are all grown up. We’re all _royalty_. We can do what we like – the rules are ours to make.”

His brother was shaking his head.

“No, please. Stop it, both of you. I don’t want to be your _mistress_ , or whatever you call it. I mean, I _do_ – you both know I do. But I can’t. I _won’t_. I’m the heir to this kingdom, and I need to take a _wife_ , I need to – ”

“Then take me as your wife, Fili. Take me as your wife, same as Kili.”

The blonde stopped shaking his head, and let the woman kiss his neck. He was clearly stunned by her proposal.

“Let me take you _both_ as my husbands. You are both brothers, and as the ritually acting High Priestess on Solstice Day it is my right, by all the laws in Laketown. To claim you both.”

Kili smiled at the thought, and saw his brother’s eyes roll back as the woman kissed his throat. He was almost at the point where he would give in, Kili could see now.

They almost had him.

All it would take was another little push, and then his brother would realise that their cosy arrangement could make them all very happy.

“But, Sigrid... we’re not in Laketown! The laws here – they’re not like that.”

Kili brushed away one of the blonde locks that had fallen in front of Sigrid’s mouth as she kissed Fili’s shoulder. She saw his gesture, and sucked sloppily on his fingertips.

Right beside the blonde dwarf’s ear.

He could see Fili’s closed eyelids flickering at the slow, sensual sounds, and deliberately, he reached with his other fingers to graze his brother’s lips, offering him the little push he needed over the edge and into the place where they both wanted him.

He ran his finger between the blonde’s lips, as if he was going to push his finger in past his brother’s teeth.

He felt his brother sigh.

“Fili, we have no laws about _this_ in Erebor. The only rule... is that your wife is the one who bears you children. It doesn’t say one dwarf needs one dwarrow to do that. It’s just a convention. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Sigrid could feel the blonde was weakening, and ran her lips along his ear.

“And I‘m no dwarrow, Fili. And a good thing that is too – you don’t have enough of them to go round. And besides, I could give you and your brother _far more_ children. Isn’t that what you want, Fili? To be a father? To have heirs?”

Kili saw his brother’s lips were still parted slightly, as if he was trying to find some rebuttal to the woman’s overture.

He moved in for the kill.

“Do you think, brother, that our uncle would be angry with us, for both giving this woman children? For giving him double the heirs, all with a claim on Laketown and any of the kingdoms of men to marry our family into?”

He kissed Fili’s lips softly.

“Do you even care what _he_ thinks, when I tell you that this is what _I_ want?”

He traced his hand lightly over his brother’s torso, all the way down to the swelling in Fili’s damp linens.

“When we all know it’s what _you_ want too?”

His brother opened his eyes, pleading with him.

And Kili understood he wasn’t pleading for him to stop any more.

He wanted to be pushed.

Just a little bit harder.

Just so he could always look back, and tell himself it was all Kili’s fault anyway, because his younger brother had seduced him into it.

And because his brother _knew_ that Kili wanted to seduce him into it. To release what was so tightly bound inside the older dwarf’s body, and set it free as no one else had ever tried.

Kili saw that Sigrid was watching Fili’s face with intent. She could see he was theirs now, just as Kili could.

The question was, who should set him free.

But the woman was already on top of that.

She was easing the linen fabric past Fili’s hips, slowly and gently so as not to disturb Kili’s other grip on him – until he helped her out – and the two of them rolled the linens off and onto the floor by Fili’s feet, letting him stand there, naked and trembling before them both.

But Kili doubted his brother was still cold.

His breath was coming too fast – and when Kili placed his palm against his brother’s chest to check his heartbeat, he felt the blonde’s skin was warm to his touch.

“What... what do you want me to do?”

Fili’s voice was hesitant.

But it was an agreement, nonetheless.

He was letting them know they had won, and from now on he would not try to resist.

Kili felt his own body stiffening at the thought of what was coming, but he nodded to Sigrid. He had a feeling she’d put a lot of thought into this, and had some idea of what she wanted both her lovers to do.

Without a word, she slipped her own white dress over her head, and stood naked herself behind Fili. She stepped closer to him, so her breasts pressed onto his back, and reached one hand around to find what Kili could already see hardening and rising.

“Do you feel that, Fili? Does it feel good for you?”

The woman breathed into his ear, and the blond dwarf tilted his head back as if she’d tickled him.

“I’m a virgin you see, Fili – I haven’t done this before.”

She let her hand feel the full length of the dwarf’s shaft, and whispered to him.

“So you’ll be my first.”

The blonde dwarf shivered, and the woman met Kili’s eyes with a smile.

“And then your brother afterwards. He can finish me off, if you don’t last that long.”

Kili watched her stroke his brother higher, and heard the blond gasp as her fingers slowly undid his control of himself.

“I don’t _want_ you to last that long, Fili. I want you to let go, and let yourself _feel_ this.”

She kissed his throat again, and he shuddered in her arms, his breath choking in his mouth as her fingers went on playing with him.

And at the sight of his brother’s tensing face, Kili reached down to his own breeches, and undid the buckle on the belt. He hastily removed his shirt, and let his clothes fall so he was naked like the other two.

Not that either of them noticed now.

Fili’s face was blushing, and his breath came in short bursts. Kili could see he wouldn’t last much longer, and felt some slight disappointment.

But the woman suddenly stopped her pressure on him, and let go of the blonde completely.

She took a step round to the side, taking up a sitting position on top of Fili’s own bed, and beckoned the two of them over with a beguiling smile.

“Fili, your brother is getting lonely, I think, and we don’t want that. Maybe you should kiss him better, and get him up for me? What do you reckon?”

Kili swallowed hard, as Sigrid patted the bed beside her, urging him to sit down. His eyes were drawn to her narrow waist, and her small, upright breasts – they seemed to be just the right size to fit inside his palm, and for a second he wanted nothing more than to push her down and take them both in his hands.

As he’d thought about for months now.

Until he turned to see his brother. Fili was staring at him with a lustful expression, and it brought all kinds of exciting configurations to Kili’s thoughts.

He wanted to push the woman down and slip into her body, and feel his brother slip into _him_ , and then he could lose himself completely in between their two hot, gasping mouths.

But he spread his legs at his brother’s bidding, and watched as Fili knelt beside him.

And as he closed his eyes, he saw Sigrid move to touch herself as Fili’s mouth enclosed the top of his cock, and he felt his own heart rate quickening.

His brother knew how to make him harder in seconds, and he lay back on the bed, tracing his hands through Fili’s loose blonde locks and trying to slow down his lapping tongue – he wanted to last long enough to please Sigrid, and Fili was too close to the edge to be subtle with him now.

“Slow down, Fi – it feels too good!”

He felt the hot mouth withdraw from his cock, and felt a twinge of regret at his hasty words – especially when he saw those blue eyes staring at him, the mouth slightly open as if still waiting for a taste.

But his regret didn’t last long.

“Fili, _I_ want you.”

The blonde blinked, and refocused on the naked woman spreading herself out on his bed before his eyes – letting him have a good view of the most intimate parts of her body while she played at them with her fingers.

Kili watched her too, suddenly entranced, and saw Fili take a deep breath and clamber on top of Sigrid, burying his face in her chest and taking her breasts in his hands.

She stopped playing with herself and wrapped her arms around him, her breathing coming hard and fast already as he kissed her neck and groped at her body.

“Are you sure you want this, Sig?”

His fingers traced lower onto her body, drawn to the warm and inviting parts that she’d flaunted at him earlier.

“Do you really want to bear my child?”

His fingers found what she’d been playing with, and a small cry escaped her lips.

But Fili took a deep breath, more urgency in his voice now.

“I need to know you’re sure? If we do this just once, then...”

Kili saw his brother shiver.

“Then...”

But the woman answered him, nodding her head as the blonde dwarf’s fingers worked at her.

“I know, Fili. I want this. I want you _both_.”

Kili heard her words as an invitation, and felt his own hands reaching for the woman’s slit, finding her wet and warm like he’d known she would be.

His brother removed his hand, letting Kili take over from him, and grabbed at the woman’s nipple, rubbing it in fascination in his fingers while his other hand traced over her stomach.

“I just want you to be sure, Sig. If we do this, it can’t be _undone_.”

Kili heard the wet sounds his finger was making on the woman’s body, and thought of how good she was going to feel when he was exploring her with more than just his finger. He would be inside her soon – just as soon as Fili had finished with her.

He shivered in anticipation, watching the excitement shining on the faces of his two lovers, seeing their emotions building.

And the woman moaned under their attentions.

“I won’t want it undone, Fili. I want _you_ undone, inside of me – I want to feel you now.”

The blonde took her nipple in his lips, and kissed her.

“I want you too, Sig. Right now.”

He sucked on her nipple, drawing a cry from her lips as she felt his desire for her body and he moved into position between her legs.

Kili withdrew his fingers from her slit, making room for his brother’s already-weeping organ to seize her body for himself.

“Take her, brother – give her what she wants.”

Fili slid himself inside of the woman with a barely-controlled ferocity, and Sigrid cried out in rapture as he filled her again, and again – judging his speed by the sound of her cries, until he obviously could hold back no longer.

Kili saw his brother frown and pout, and on instinct, reached out to touch Fili’s flesh, wanting to feel the heat on his skin as he crumbled under the woman’s caresses.

“I can’t stop now, Sig – you’re _having me!_ – ”

The woman trembled as she felt the blonde shake and gasp, the pressure in his body peaking as his cock readied for its deliverance inside her body.

And with a choking cry that must have been audible to others in the sleeping quarters, the blonde dwarf fell apart at last – and gave himself up to the woman’s desire, panting and weeping until he’d spurted all of his seed loose and lay released and helpless in her arms.

He kissed her mouth, earning a hungry response back from her – and rolled out of her weakly and onto his side.

Kili saw his brother’s face was scarlet, and his eyes half-closed as he smiled in satisfaction.

“Your turn, brother. Make her happy for us both.”

And with a nod, Kili climbed on top of the woman and guided his cock inside of her.

She was wetter than he remembered, and with a shiver of delight, he realised she was soaking with his brother’s fresh, hot seed – Fili had obviously had a lot to give, and had given it all.

And now it was his turn.

Since she was already on the brink of it, he saw no need to start gently – and nor did she seem to want him to be.

“Faster, Kili! As fast as your brother!”

He took a deep breath, and felt Fili’s hand on his ass, wanting to sense the rise and fall of his brother’s passions as much as Sigrid did.

He looked for his brother, and saw the blonde dwarf was watching him intently, his lips parted and his eyes shining.

“Do it, Ki. I want to watch you _both_.”

And Kili was ready to oblige – rocking himself in and out of the woman’s slick, silky cunt until he felt himself welling up to burst as his brother had just done. He heard her moan, and knew from how she suddenly squirmed around him and panted in his ear that she was ready – she was already there.

And now it was his turn, finally.

With a shuddering groan, he gave himself up to her.

And like Fili’s, his load was torrential – with throbbing intensity it came flooding through him, thick and pulsating, and constant – a constant jet of potent seed to gift to her, and mingle with his brother’s in filling up her belly as the pair of them gasped in pleasure.

“Oh, Sig – ”

He felt his body unclench itself, and he lay on top of her, seeing her face flushed with happiness and her eyes sparkling with passion.

He smiled at her, and withdrew himself, finding a more comfortable position half astride her and snuggled up to Fili too, who reached for them both with a murmur and lay his head on Sigrid’s shoulder.

Kili felt Fili’s hand squeeze the flesh on his butt, and sighed in contentment.

It hadn’t been such a bad day overall.

“Do you feel warmed up now, Fili?”

Kili whispered to his brother through the tangled blonde hair, and heard Sigrid giggle.

And with a sigh, Fili kissed the woman’s shoulder and turned his head to catch Kili’s eye.

“I don’t know. Maybe the two of you need to try again to make sure.”

The woman opened her eyes and grinned.

“You know, the feasting will go on all night. There’s no hurry, boys. We can _warm_ you again as soon as you’re ready, Fili.”

Kili watched his brother’s eyes close and saw his lips curl slowly into a smile, and caught a glimpse of the pictures flitting through the blonde’s mind in his lazy gesture.

And it would be rude to disappoint his brother. He’d had a rough day.

And Solstice-tide was a time for _giving._

He kissed Sigrid’s breast, and reached his arm out to caress Fili’s hip.

“If you both insist. Whose turn is it now then?”

The three of them regarded each other with naked curiosity, and laughed.

 

\------------------------------------------------

**3.7: The witchhouse, Full Dark, Solstice Night**

The orc queen opened her crusty eyes and reached for her head with a sticky hand.

“Oh, for the love of fucking Sauron, what time is it? Leggy?”

Dimly aware of the cold air around her and the whistling wind in her ears, she sat up, trying to make sense of the scene in the darkened room.

And with a gargled cry of horror, she realised she was alone.

Her companions were both gone.

_Departed._

Both princes had vanished into the night, and as she looked in growing anger she could see the traces of their footprints heading from the open cottage doorway and leading out to the clearing beyond.

“Shit, those two useless pricks have escaped!”

She got to her feet, slowly, realising she’d been lying in a puddle of stale brandy – the silver hipflask – the only source of booze she’d had left – was empty on the floor beside her.

“Aw, fucksake!”

Staggering to the alarmed hourglass, she saw immediately why it hadn’t woken her.

Someone had cut the string to the bell.

In fact, as she stared at it, she noticed that _all_ the strings on the little contraption had been cut to ribbons – and the pieces had all been left in a neat little pattern on the windowsill, forming an image that was visible under the moonlit sky.

An eight-spoked wheel.

She frowned, wondering which of the little shits had done this.

It was too intricate a pattern for the ten-thumbed prince of Mirkwood to have drawn, but she doubted it was something that the smug blonde bitch would have thought to bother with, even though it looked suspiciously like one of those filthy dwarf runes from her Khuzdul classes.

She stared at in suspicion, and scanned the dark room for any sign of a third guest.

But there was no sound at all.

No one here. Nothing.

Only the cold wind, gusting through the cottage door as it swung idly under her gaze, pointing the direction of her companions’ flight like a hand waving goodbye.

Mocking her.

“They’ll fucking pay for this. Both of them, I swear! For making me look like a dumb twat in front of those village simpletons, and all those priestly cunts. I’ll wage a war on both their kingdoms so hard, that _all_ their peoples will be _incinerated_ in flames!”

She searched around the room, wondering what she could take with her for the journey. There was nothing worth stealing – and no booze left to drink.

Remembering she’d finished her powder, and smoked all her herbs – apart from a sad, sticky half cone that lay coated in brandy dregs on the cottage floor – she cursed her ill fortune again.

The beginnings of what promised to be an extremely vicious hangover were already stirring in her temples, and she wanted to reach her keep and find her bed before the full force of it hit.

“Right, let’s get saddled up and get back. I’ll have my revenge another day, that pair can count on it. Whether it takes me another year, or another ten – I’ll skin them alive and hang them out for the bats for this!”

Shaking her fist in rage, the orc queen strode out into the clearing.

And stopped dead in her tracks.

Her horse was missing.

Nightmare was gone too!

Those bastards must have taken her!

All that remained was her rope, still tethered to the fir tree, swinging in the wind like a noose.

She scanned the skies, seeing the cloud was thickening – promising to hide the moon as it rode high in the sky. Promising snow.

She sighed in frustration, and strode back into the cottage, fumbling around for something warm to wear on her journey back to the Marshlands.

It would take her _days_ on foot in these snows.

But there was nothing – no warm coat, no Sancta costume, nothing.

Growling, she paced back into the clearing, and set off.

It didn’t matter. None of it did.

She still had her boots. And inside them – she still had her spare knife.

The first rider she saw – the first farmhouse she came to with horses – she would get herself a new steed.

And anyone stupid enough to stand in her way would get her chib through their heart.

“Merry fucking Solstice, cunts.”

The orc queen turned her head to the south, and began her long march home.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the end, folks. Thanks for reading my weird little story! :)

**3.8: Erebor great hall, Full Dark, Solstice Night**

It was much later in the night – some of the candles had already burned down on the long table, and what remained of the merry-making guests and servants were now too addled to notice – when the three came down to rejoin the Solstice feast.

But sharp-eyed as ever, Bard noticed them come strolling in very quietly through the doorway at once, and pointed them to an empty spot in the middle of the table.

The eyes all turned to watch the three of them sitting themselves down as inconspicuously as possible – with the eldest dwarf in the middle, flanked by his brother and the woman.

“Oh, here you all are! Did you have a nice _bath,_ Fili? We were starting to think we’d need to send out another search party.”

Kili saw his brother’s cheeks redden as all the guests laughed, and smiled in the candlelight, catching Sigrid’s grin.

He motioned to a servant for some more wine, and took the offered goblet gratefully, with one eye on his uncle’s unreadable expression at the other end of the table.

At first appearance, his dwarf friends seemed just as drunk as the Laketowners, and were giggling and pointing at the three of them just like the people from the village.

From the end of the table, Thorin’s voice rung out.

“While the three of you have been _bathing_ , we’ve been chatting to our Laketown friends at the table here about all their Solstice traditions, and they’ve been filling us in on a most _interesting_ marriage custom that it seems is permissible by their laws.”

The dwarf king’s beady blue eyes studied the faces of his two nephews, as if wondering which one would be easier pickings.

“I don’t suppose either of you two would care to tell us all what’s going on?”

Kili met his brother’s eye, and opened his mouth to speak.

“Well, uncle, we – “

He felt Fili’s hand on his knee, under the table, and stopped.

His brother rose from his chair, and scanned the guests around the table. They hushed at once, seeing that he obviously had something to say.

“Well uncle, it seems you must have found out about this _custom_ at the same time that I did. But I doubt whether our dinner guests here can have explained it as well as Sigrid and Kili did to me in my chambers.”

There was a murmur of laughter from the men and women at the Laketown end of the table. And the blonde took a sip of the wine in his goblet, and met his uncle’s stare with a smile.

“I can assure you it was quite a _discovery_ for me too, but I think I’ve warmed to the idea now.”

His uncle smiled thinly, and Kili wondered whether it was a real smile, or a declaration of war.

But perhaps his brother didn’t care.

For with a glance that seemed to challenge all those seated around the table, the blond dwarf put a protective hand on the shoulders of the two sat closest to him, and nodded to his uncle.

And to the King of Laketown.

“Since it is Solstice Night, and Sigrid is in the role of the High Priestess, both Kili and I have asked her for her _hands_ in marriage. And since she has accepted us both, I would like to announce that the three of us are now engaged.”

He thought for a second with a quizzical expression, as if replaying the last phrase in his head.

“Both my brother and I are engaged to Sigrid, I mean.”

The King of Laketown stood with a smile on his face and raised his goblet to the news.

“Congratulations to you, my dearest daughter. And to my two new dwarfish kinsmen – welcome to my family. I hope you both bring my daughter much happiness and many children, which I know you shall both strive to do, one bath at a time.”

There was laughter from the ranks of Laketown villagers, and the former bargemen sat down with a shrug.

“We saved you some food in the pantry by the way, you’ll need to eat something, and get your strength back up. Especially you, Fili – after such a cold journey, and such a _hot_ bath.”

The blonde dwarf blushed and turned his eyes to his uncle, who took his own stance at the foot of the table. He waited until the laughter had died away.

Kili found himself suddenly nervous, and felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder tighten in solidarity.

“Thank you for your candour, Fili. And I must say, it is a refreshing change.”

Under the table, Kili felt himself reach for the blonde’s knee as their uncle’s tone darkened.

“And I hope your new marriage will be a refreshing change – from all the creeping about you and your brother have been doing. I know you both think you’ve been very clever, but trust me – we’ve all known for years now. About the two of you.”

The dwarf king grinned, his tone warming up.

“Along with how you both felt for Sigrid, it has to be one of the worst kept secrets in Erebor, Laketown, or anywhere else in the world!”

The dwarves seated around Thorin were giggling in agreement, and even the little hobbit was chuckling along with them.

But Kili felt his own face blush at the revelation.

He couldn’t even bring himself to look at Fili.

And from across the table, he saw the King of Laketown raise his goblet with a grin, flicking his eyebrows at the dwarf brothers in agreement with their uncle.

Kili took a hasty gulp from his own cup of wine.

Thorin nodded, seeing the shock on both his nephews’ faces and grinning in victory.

“So I’m very glad to hear that you’ll both actually be taking a wife – even if it is the same one, and a woman. I hope the gods will smile down upon you and bless you with lots of children, and our family line will go on to new strengths, making new friends, and forming new alliances.”

The dwarf lord sat, leaving Fili the only one standing again.

All eyes turned to the blonde dwarf, scrutinising how he would reply to these very personal family commentaries.

He nodded around the table, and Kili could see he was still shocked from his uncle’s comments.

“Well friends, we thank you for all your well wishes. The three of us will do our best to make you all happy, and achieve your wishes. As I told you earlier, I’ve had an extremely strange day, all in all. It started off horribly, but has improved with every passing hour, so I’m looking forward to retiring with my new fiancée and my brother and seeing how much better it might get.”

He hesitated, and sat back down at the table, then stretched his arms around the shoulders of both Kili and Sigrid, pulling them closer to him.

“I can think of nothing better than spending all my nights – and all my life – with these two people, who I love beyond measure. So thanks to all of you for being so sympathetic, and giving our marriage your blessing.”

Fili raised his goblet in a toast, and the rest of the table mirrored him drunkenly.

“Cheers.”

The rest of the table erupted into merriment and laughter, and Kili watched as his brother turned to kiss Sigrid, sealing his speech with the beautiful young woman’s lips. She put her hands to his face and kissed him hungrily, and Kili wondered idly how long the three of them needed to stick around down here now the news was out.

Maybe just long enough to eat something, as Bard had suggested. But already, watching his brother with the Laketown woman was having the usual impact, and Kili was slightly relieved when his brother broke off the kiss and turned back to him.

He stared at his brother’s blue eyes, and saw that Fili was tired, more than anything.

“You did well, brother – you’re always better at these kind of things than I am. You made it sound almost dignified.”

His brother grinned, and nodded.

“I tried my best. I’m surprised they took it so well.”

He shook his head.

“I’m surprised _I_ took it so well.”

Kili looked around, and saw the party would probably go strong for a while yet. None of these people looked likely to put their drinks down anytime soon.

“Listen, Fi. Let’s take that food up to your chambers, and take you to bed. You’re tired, and you’ve done enough explaining of yourself for one day. Let me and Sig look after you.”

Sigrid leaned over and smiled.

“I’ve already asked the servants to do just that. We can take the food upstairs, and if anyone is still hungry afterwards, I’m sure they can get stuffed in some other way.”

The two brothers blinked at her in unison, and shrugged at each other.

And without any more hanging around, the three of them left just as quietly as they’d come, making for the stairs to the sleeping quarters, tired, relieved – and more than anything – happy.

 

____________________________________________

**3.9: Dol Guldur mountains, Full Dark, Solstice Night**

The winds were howling in her ears, sending the powdery snow dancing before her eyes as she climbed, higher and higher up the mountain.

She didn’t need to see where she was going, she was sure she knew where the path was here, and anyway – the moon was still up. High and clear, it lit with dazzling radiance all the white drifts shifting around her, lighting her way into Dol Guldur as the Lonely Mountain’s vale area retreated far behind.

She hadn’t spotted a single farmstead or dwelling post on her travels so far, but she knew she would find one sooner or later – there were many between here and the Marshlands, and she was making good progress.

Yet something was making the orc queen uneasy as she trod through the thickening snows. Something she cared not to admit to herself, yet all the same – it had induced her to draw her blade into her hand as she walked.

As if whatever it was, lurking out of sight, could be warded off by her unnamed threat of violence.

And as the silvery moon brightened from behind a veil of thin cloud again, she stopped and listened. Now and again, she’d been sure she’d heard footsteps behind her – close by on the path. But now that she stood still, the creaking noise of the packing snows fell silent.

And the moonshine lit up the blank expanse of white all behind her.

There was no one there, following her on the path.

There was no one anywhere, not for miles around.

She was alone.

But she didn’t _feel_ like she was alone. She had the sensation of being watched, as a prey animal senses its hunter.

She twirled the knife around in her hand, scanning the landscape for some sign of deer or wolf.

Some kind of living creature, that could be wandering through this high barren ground late at night on Solstice Full Dark, perhaps lost or blinded by the freezing weather.

And shaking her head at her own foolishness, she turned and pressed on.

“You’re getting as limp-dicked as that useless elf prick, Sulga. What would your troops think if they could see you like this, up here? They’d say you’re getting soft, that’s what! As if it wasn’t soft enough of you to let that fucking dwarf escape.”

Close behind her, on the track, she heard a woman laughing softly, and she turned at once to confront the oncomer, her blade raised.

But she saw nothing, just the billowing white shapes of the snow drifts, covering her footsteps as she walked on up the mountain.

A chill descended on her, and she shivered.

She stood a second longer, feeling the cold for the first time on her journey, and eager to get away from this desolate place and back into her keep.

It must have just been the wind, that was all.

Up here, in the mountains, it could create weird sounds – so she’d heard.

It could blow across the snow and the rock and the spongy, boggy ground, and make it all resonate so it sounded like footsteps treading on the path behind you, like someone was stalking you, tracking your movements unseen and unseeable and leading you on to the remote places where nobody would ever find what was left of you once those footsteps caught up with you...

But it was crazy talk. The kind of thing those cretins in Saltmarsh would believe – not the likes of her. Not Sulga of the Red Lodge. Not she who’d burned her enemies in their hundreds, honing her skill in drawing out their pain for as long as possible so she could use that to terrorise yet more into submission.

She was made of stronger stuff than the fools in the village. Or the stuck-up, long haired elf twats, or those smug-faced dwarves with their idiot beliefs in honour, and self-sacrifice.

She would show them all. She would have her revenge on _all_ of them.

Because all those phantom spirits turned out to be was just the ghostly breaths of the wind. The wind played tricks on the mind in the mountains, that was all, and it would not trick her.

She would not deviate from her path.

She would get home, and wreak her revenge on all those cunts who’d wronged her. She would plot a punishment so severe for her enemies, that all the kingdoms of Middle Earth would look at her and tremble.

She was all alone here, and there was nothing to harm her.

She plodded along, feeling the heat of her malice and anger, wearing them like a cloak to keep her blood hot and her mind sharp and focused.

Someone laughed in her ear behind her.

It sounded like vibrating, tinkling glass – as bright as silver and as airy as moonbeams.

She twirled round, and lost her balance in the snow.

And suddenly, there was a louder sound – more fearful than the phantom footprints or the ghastly laughter.

The sound of cracking ice.

“Oh, _shit – !”_

The orc queen didn’t have time to react, as the ground she’d fallen on to was revealed to be no ground at all – just snow and ice covering a crevice – and she felt herself falling into the precipice even as she grabbed blindly at the white, powdered snowdrifts.

And then she was falling. Falling into the deep, black hole – and landing with a dull pain into an endless, cottony drift.

She lay for a minute, unable to move, summoning her strength to flex her limbs and finding that they were too stiff, too cold, and too heavy.

And even if she could move them – the ravine was too high, and steep, and sheer for her to climb out.

She was trapped here.

With no way back out.

She felt the onrushing darkness washing over her, and felt her thoughts turning to dreams...

Dreams of the silver-haired elf prince, mincing back into his kingdom’s gates in a ridiculous Sancta cape, and snivelling before his glaring father for forgiveness. It was all the orc queen’s fault, he was saying – she’d tricked him, and abducted him, and forced him into doing things he’d never wanted to do – until he’d managed to escape her evil clutches, with his quick-witted cleverness – even saving one of the Erebor dwarf princes in the process, who’d been similarly duped by the orc queen’s lies. And then his father was shaking his head, and telling him that he would be permitted to rejoin the party as long as he put his traumatic story into verse, and sang it to the guests. His father was passing him a small ceremonial lute, and the crestfallen elf was eagerly nodding at the ludicrous instrument, glad to be back in his father’s comfortable palace with its simpering elfmaids and golden tiles whatever the cost to his bruised ego...

She glared into the darkness, and rolled onto her other side.

And then she saw another of her past lovers, seemingly also glad she was gone...

The dark-haired dwarf prince of Erebor – her little Kili – was not alone like she was. Oh no. He had company, and seemed to be enjoying that company very much at that present moment, sandwiched inelegantly between some drab-haired woman and the hateful, blonde brother she’d so stupidly set free. None of them had any clothes on, but that seemed to be the whole point for her little Kili, who was the focus of their tangle of bodies – a big smile on his face as the woman screamed something obscene and the blonde dwarf burnt up in an altogether different sort of fire from the one she’d intended for him.

She growled in rage, and opened her eyes in the darkness.

And all she could see was the moon watching her, from the very top of the frozen mountain chasm. Watching her seemingly with a smile of satisfaction on its shadow face, as the snow clouds silently drifted over and the flakes began to fall once more.

Sulga felt the cold white powder land and settle on her skin, and glared up at the moon in hatred.

“You might think you’ve won, but you know it isn’t so! My kind can sleep under the ice for a thousand years, if we must. Your cold, your ice, your snow – they don’t freeze our blood completely. We are creatures of the earth and we have no fear of it! And when I wake, I promise you this – I will have my vengeance – on those enemies of mine or their family line, it does not matter to me. And I will be victorious, even if it takes me a hundred thousand years!”

But the moon only flickered in reply, and withdrew to let the storm clouds cover her face.

And soon, at the bottom of her chasm, the orc queen was covered with an inch of powdery snow – which would grow, and grow over time, until even the memory of her evil in the world had disappeared.

And so the heart of darkness slept on, in the high barren mountains where the cold clouds lingered, where only the foolish would tread all alone.

 

_________________________________________________

**Epilogue**

The hobbit turned to the last page of the story book, feeling a rumble of hunger in his stomach.

He’d missed his second breakfast to stay here reading this, and was looking forward to having a hearty lunch to compensate – for not even thoughts of vengeful corpses or the reanimated dead could put any dent in his appetite, and now he was ravenous.

“So every night at Solstice-tide we must put out a saucer of ale for the Old Ones, who are thirsty from their travels. Chewing through the earth is hard work on their jaws, and they like to be rewarded for their troubles. And in return, the Lady Moonshine will smile down on those who feed her and her sister’s children, and will protect all living creatures who honour her customs, and obey her laws.”

A little boy with golden curls had drifted off to sleep, Bilbo could see, but most of the children were staring at him thoughtfully, not really understanding the lessons of this Solstice story.

“But Uncle Bilbo, what _are_ the Lady’s customs?”

The red-haired girl spoke up, a serious expression on her face again, and Bilbo struggled to think.

“Well, Unn. For a start, you must feed the Old Ones at this time of year. And feed everyone properly – by seeing to it that no one goes hungry for want of some food.”

He heard his stomach rumble again, and the dwarf king stared at him and shook his head.

“We had breakfast two hours ago, Bilbo. You _can’t_ be hungry already.”

But the hobbit pursed his lips, and ignored the dwarf’s ignorant comments. They’d known each other long enough now for that to be a proven untruth.

He tried to think.

“I suppose the main thing, children, is to be nice to one another. And not to harm anyone else, for the Lady loves everyone, and she becomes angry when she sees any of her children being harmed.”

The dwarf king nodded, getting into the spirit of the story, and adding on his own explanation.

“That’s right, children – sooner or later, the Lady will send Old Nick to punish all the bad people. He’ll come up through the snows one night at Full Dark with his fangs and claws and tear the wicked apart like a giant bear!”

The kids howled in excited screams, and Bilbo threw his lover a cautious glance. They didn’t want to be upsetting the children now and threatening the timely delivery of lunch. It was so close, and he was so hungry, and the children’s parents should be here so very soon.

He might even have time for a mince pie before they had to go.

“Er, yes – that’s right children, but if you’re good then Old Nick will never harm you. And the best way to be good, is to be nice to _all_ the other children, take care of all living things, and especially – by listening to and honouring your parents – all three of them. Your mother, and Fili and Kili, and – ”

“ _Except_ for Kili, kids, when he dares you to do something Fili and I have forbidden.”

The hobbit looked up, and saw his friends had finally arrived.

He stood up at once to offer Sigrid – pregnant again – his chair and closed the book with a start.

“What was that you were reading them, Bilbo? The tale of Old Nick?”

The young woman’s eyes sparkled as she saw the front cover.

“That was always my favourite as a child. And funnily enough, now I think it’s Fili’s favourite too.”

She fixed the blonde dwarf with a knowing look, and he shifted uncomfortably.

“It’s just a fairy tale.”

The dark haired dwarf laughed.

“So how come you always insist on putting the ale out yourself every night? You’re worried Sig and I won’t do it properly, and the Old Ones will be _angry_.”

The red-haired girl ran over to the woman, and put her head in her knees.

“Where are we going now, mama? I want another story.”

The woman stroked the little girl’s hair, and the hobbit was struck again by how much the child resembled her mother. All of the woman’s daughters did, whether they were dark, blonde, or redhead. Whereas her sons took after both their fathers.

He watched as Kili bent down to their daughter, and whispered in her ear.

“I have another story I could tell you on the way, Unn. But only if you’re good. It’s the story of how once upon a time Old Nick saved the Solstice for us – the very one before you were born.”

But Fili groaned at his brother.

“Maybe the one about the dancing reindeer would be better, Ki? After all, you do all the moves so _well.”_

The woman smiled at the thought, and clutched the blonde dwarf’s arm in her hand.

“My love, can you start herding the children towards the door? We can get Kili to bring out the stragglers.”

The hobbit watched as Fili approached his sleeping son, and picked him up in a gentle scoop.

“Do I... have time for any food, before we set off for your father’s house, Sigrid?”

But the dwarf king scoffed.

“There’s a whole five course Solstice-Eve Eve lunch waiting for you, Bilbo! There’s even some of Bofur’s new whisky. You’ll spoil your appetite if you start munching on more of those mince pies.”

The hobbit rolled his eyes, and he felt the dwarf lord take his hand in his.

“Why don’t you help my nephews gather up the children, and then we’ll all get to sit down to dinner sooner.”

The little hobbit nodded, and put down the old story book, aiding his friends in assembling their small army of kids and preparing them for the snowy weather outside.

And as his friends all left through the Erebor gates, and trod into the fresh snowfall that lay thick and deep all around, the little hobbit stifled a shudder.

He knew fine well what had happened all those years ago. The story he’d heard Kili speak of, and which set Fili on edge even now.

What dark fragments he’d not heard from his friends, late at night, after some ales around the fireplace in their uncle’s great hall – he’d heard from Sigrid, when she spoke about the monster she knew that now lurked in the faraway hills.

She’d heard it from the flames.

But she’d told them all that, as long as they looked after each other and stayed good and pure in their hearts, then the Heart of Darkness would never have any power over any of them, nor their children. For the Lady Moonshine loved all living creatures, and would find a way to punish all those who broke her covenant of peace, one way or another.

And as Bilbo passed the little saucer of ale that Fili had earlier laid out past the gates, and felt Thorin squeeze his hand in reassurance, he knew well in his heart that all of them were safe from darkness, and had nothing to be afraid of – even though the moon was just rising above the lake and the reflection on the still and freezing water was as cold as glacial ice.

And with Thorin’s hand in his, he turned his thoughts back to the important matter of lunch, with a gladness in his heart and a feeling of contentment for all the feasting they still had to come.


End file.
